A memory preserved.

Suzanne over at C.U.S.S did a wonderful post about friendship this morning. It made me nostalgic.

Do you remember when being best friends meant "forever"? Even if forever was only until the end of the summer? But it felt like it streched into eternity? Like that time would never end. When it did, it always felt like something in you had died. Childhood had a tangible feeling...

I want to go running outside onto a sunwarmed playground into a group of lauging friends. I want to swing so hard and so high the chains go slack and it feels like I'm flying. I want to play kick the can in the dark, hiding behind the bushes at the neighbors house, holding my breath, listening to my heartbeat in my ears.

I want the feel the rush of joy that came with waking up on Saturday mornings, knowing I had the whole day to eat cereal out of the box, watch cartoons and play. I want peanut butter sandwiches on the grass in June.

I want camping trips in the middle of summers so hot it feels like the sun is to close to the earth. When the lake felt like heaven and we swam all day. I want to sit wrapped in a blanket on the beach and listen to my parents talk to their friends about things I don't understand. I want to lie on the cool sand and watch the stars and smell the fire and pretend we aren't ever going to go home, because here is quiet and no one yells.

I want to hold hands with my best friend and walk down the sidewalk on a cool fall day talking about what we're going to be for Halloween. I want the smell of Elmer's Glue on construction paper and the sound of the library.

I want the quiet moment before anyone woke up on Christmas morning.

I want the smell of fresh baked bread on Sunday.

I want to wrap all the wonderful things about my childhood up into a tiny little box and hang onto them forever. Unsoiled, perfect and untouched. Because that's how childhood should be.