An Open Letter To The Man I "Married" In Kindergarten
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An Open Letter To The Man I "Married" In Kindergarten

I can still picture us playing house in my red dress and your Wranglers, imagining that we were in a white dress and tux.

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An Open Letter To The Man I "Married" In Kindergarten
Verde Holistico

I bet you don’t remember me, but then again I bet that you do. I was the short girl who wore pigtails and probably got on your last nerve every single day. However, you never ditched me or told me to go away even though at times, I’m pretty sure you were tired of me. You put up with me and you were constantly by my side whenever I needed you. You were the shoulder I would cry on when I fell down and scraped my knee, and the arms I was ready to embrace the first time I was sent to the principal’s office. You were a best friend. One that I wish I would have never lost contact with.

I can still see us running the school. However, back then “running the school” didn’t have the hostile meaning it has now. We were just the two people everyone talked to. We didn’t judge people nor did we leave anyone out because back then we were all one in the same. There was no such thing as cliques. No one cared if you had Chanel #5 perfume or Louis Vuitton designer heels. Each of us wore tennis shoes with holes in the toe and clothes our mothers had picked out the night before. "Spirit" was our favorite movie and after-school play dates were the highlight of our day. You and I were something that was unforgettable.

I didn’t exactly ”marry” you back in kindergarten. We were still on the edge about getting “cooties,” yet grabbing each other’s hand when no one was looking. My mind is a little fuzzy, but I do know we took oath to be by each other’s side shortly after walking the kindergarten graduation stage. I would kind of hope the "vows" we shared on the playground meant something to you as I can still picture us playing house and my red dress being my pure white ball gown along with your wrangler jeans being your tux. We had "children" or so we thought. We were the relationship goals of our generation, regardless if we knew it or not.

You were always so good to me, even as we started growing apart. If someone was being mean to me, you'd want to beat them up. Or if you saw me crying, you'd try and comfort me even though you didn't understand why I was upset because I was too stubborn to tell you what was wrong. When I begged you to treat me as one of the guys instead of a girl, you punched me in my shoulder and let me tag along on y’all’s adventures. Some of the most fun I have ever had in my life was with you, and despite the fact that you and I may never speak again, I will hold those memories dear to my heart.

Everything changed when I moved. I wasn’t expecting to leave, ever, let alone the week after third grade started. MySpace wasn’t a thing and Facebook didn’t exist yet. Cell phones weren't in our hands and the only way we could talk to someone was if we had our parents dial our friends' parents and ask them if we could chat. I was an hour away and never thought about everything I was leaving behind until it was too late. I don’t regret moving, but I regret never seeing you again. I can’t help but wonder what life would be like if I stayed or if we stayed in communication. Luckily when our generation did discover Facebook, we friend requested everyone we knew and seeing your face in my notifications made me smile. Occasionally, I check in on you and I see you do the same, yet neither one of us ever says "hi." Is it because we are two different people now and have no idea if we’d even be able to get along? Maybe one day we’ll come around and lose our fear of speaking to each other. I don’t recall signing “divorce” papers, so aren’t we technically still meant to be?

XOXO,

Your "Wife"

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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