Some of the most profound memories that I have in my life came from the times when I couldn't care less about my fashion or my mental state. That didn't mean I didn't care at all-- I was made insecure about my weight by all of the other schoolchildren, but I was unable to bear the emotional baggage that comes with insecurity, and so I refused to carry it. There's something magical about how much stronger I was back then. Through the shouting and crying in the new homes that stood as symbols of a new beginning, I can readily look back somewhat nostalgically to the fantastic escape I found in simple pleasures.
This story goes out to all of the people who looked past my physical qualities and made my life wonderful growing up. This story goes out to each and everyone of you.
Let's take a journey back to second grade at A.B. Combs Elementary. My teacher, Mrs. Balyard, was an angel sent from heaven. Not only was she kind, compassionate, and patient, (which are qualities that teachers need, but are sadly so uncommon these days,) but she was also drop-dead gorgeous. She is, without a doubt, in the top 10 most beautiful women I've ever seen in my life. Like, I had this cute little thought that I was unworthy of being in her presence; I thought that she was too good for me, even though I was like six, and she was in her early to mid-twenties. You better believe that I brought her a valentine, though! That's, of course, before the idea of sex ever even occurred to me; basking in her goddess-like presence was the highlight of my every day.
But the most important thing that second grade brought me was one of the most immortal friendships I've ever had. His name was Aaron, and he's a brother to me. I can't exactly recall how our friendship began, but what I do remember is his face by heart. Aaron always had this wide and toothy grin, pale blonde hair, and a pair of glasses on his nose. I remember how enthusiastically he'd talk to me about the stuff he was into, but what impressed me the most was his willingness to listen, even if he had no idea what I was talking about. His curiosity is what inspired me to become a more thoughtful and inquisitive person. I'm a better listener and friend to others because of Aaron, and the memories of that sweet summer are ones that I wouldn't trade for the world.
At the crack of dawn, every morning, my mom took me over to Aaron's mom's apartment where he, his brother, Austin, and I spent our days running about outside and playing my GameCube and their Super Nintendo inside. Memories of Billy Hatcher and Mario Paint come to mind.
In the early summer, when the days were still cool, Aaron and I played outside on the outskirts of his apartment complex's backyard. It was on the edge of the grove that we came across a dead baby snake. I assured Aaron that we could bring the snake back to life with a ritual I knew. I was able to convince Aaron to go collect twigs and berries because I'm partially Egyptian, and I told Aaron that my people were known for our ability to bring animals back from the grave. We took the baby snake and placed it into a small shallow grave. I conducted the ritual. and urged Aaron to wait a week. And with the rain, the snakes corpse washed away. I suppose the ruse worked. I wonder if Aaron remembers that.
The story doesn't have some super crazy ending, but it is nonetheless remarkable that, after all these years post Aaron moving to his homeland of Kentucky, Aaron and I were able to reconnect via Facebook. He's changed a lot; he's one hell of a badass, but I can see so much of him hasn't changed a bit. I haven't talked to him in a while, and I hope he's doing well.
Mrs. Watkins' third grade class brought two more friends that almost took Aaron's place in my immediate life, as Aaron was in a different class than I was. These two were already friends with one another, but I was happy to join them. Enter Mahmood and Alex. Mahmood was one of the most remarkable and talented artists I've ever seen, especially for his age. Alex and his family were from England, and I think that Alex's voice reflected that well.
These two lads were Pokemon and video game savvy like I was, and they were my first gateway into the world of trading Pokemon cards.
I always got Mahmood to draw me pictures of Goku and other cool things I liked; I've always admired and have been envious of his artistic ability. We even talked about, if we made a video game, all of the characters we'd include. We made a little scrapbook of all of our original characters to add to the roster, where every character was numbered.
Alex got me into the online game "Runescape," which is a game I still play on and off to this day.
I spoke to Alex a couple years after we all went our separate ways when I found his home phone number in the phone book. I was able to, after these years, finally add him as a friend on Runescape, where I was able to talk to him here and there for the years to come. I haven't talked to him in about 9 years, I'd say. I forgot what his last name was, so I naturally couldn't find him on Facebook, but I could always ask Mahmood, who I am friends with. When I reconnected to Mahmood, it wasn't quite as fulfilling as I'd hoped-- we just made a bit of small talk here and there, and never really interacted again. I plan to hit him up sometime soon, though.
And after the third grade, I moved to several different elementary schools, where I didn't find an incredible amount of luck making friends that were there for me. That would continue until I got into middle school, where I made another group of friends I've since lost contact with. But this time, I became more insecure about myself, and the self-loathing and my fake personality (or, my "persona") began to emerge.
So what's the point of these stories? Well, I guess you can say that the wonderful and positive peers that I have in my life, even today, are able to keep my mind away from the cold and harsh reality that is life. If there's something to take away from this post, it's that you should confide in the people that mean everything to you, despite what divergent paths you might take. Friendship and memories with others is a two-sided affair too, you know.
Thanks for reading,
Jacob
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