By Darian Randolph
When I see this old picture, I think about a simpler time. The tender age of 12, the beginning of the crazy, hormonal and drastic rollercoaster that is adolescence.
I think of our curiosity about the world around us—opening our eyes and seeing things clearer. I think of the countless times lying on your parents’ dock, where our tan lines are evident in the photograph, that summer. I think of the middle school clique we used to be in and how much security we sought after to ensure its existence. I think of the little silver Kodak I owned where we took dozens upon dozens of selfies putting up peace signs and other dumb poses you do when you’re twelve.
I think of the frustration and hatred for the town we grew up in. The boredom, the complaining and the ultimate dream of buying a one-way ticket out of there and never looking back. Scolding our parents for having raised us in Main Street, USA. I think about sneaking out onto the roof of your house and talking about our dreams into the wee hours of the morning.
I think of our first “boyfriends”—when one of their friends would come over during recess and asked us out for them. Slow dancing to “You and Me” by Lifehouse (with hands strictly on the hips) at the sixth grade dances. I think of learning about love for the first time and experiencing our first heartbreaks. I think of our parents warning us about how boys will only grow to be headaches and will say anything to get what they want.
Looking at this picture, I think about our love for Metro Station and All Time Low and their albums being the only ones that boomed out of the speakers of our iPod docks that summer. I think of the bonfire parties we used to host at my house where all of us kids, would jump on the trampoline and sing karaoke while running freely across my backyard.
Many memories flood to mind looking at this old picture, but one outweighs them all—the day we stopped being friends. We were 16 and turning into different people. Adulthood was in the near distance, calling out to the both of us. I was focusing on not failing Algebra 2 and you turned your focus into boys, booze and bad decisions. We weren’t relating to each other anymore. Life was leading us on different paths.
This old picture reminds me of the love I still have for you. I don’t believe that you’re the awful person I once made you out to be but rather we just weren’t meant to be friends long term. I genuinely hope you know that you can still contact me if you ever need or want me. Some of my best preteen memories were with you and I will always carry them with me, wherever I go. We may not be friends anymore, but I will always remember you and that summer looking at this old picture.
About Darian
Darian Randolph is a junior at Ohio University majoring in journalism and social media. She’s an avid coffee drinker, reader, writer, concert-goer, who is obsessed with Chipotle and spends an unhealthy amount of time trying to create the perfect Instagram profile. If you discuss music with her, be ready to be asked the question: “have you seen the music video to that song?” She someday hopes to be an established music journalist and live out a life like in “Almost Famous.”