I remember how he touched my knee, with one or two fingers, stroking it, as we sat in the hallway. Even though I had hairy legs and told him not to.
And I remember walking down the hall and holding his arm as we went to class. Looking forward to seeing someone after class. How many times had I walked alone in that hallway, not really caring, not really minding or noticing. But oh how I missed it when it had stopped, faded away like the ghost of a memory from years past. I walked the halls no more but suddenly they felt empty. Suddenly I felt alone. Surrounded by people I felt alone. He was my best friend. I had never had one of those before. I had never needed one.
But oh how I missed it when it went away.
Oh how I missed it, spending my days looking at a sunset, trying to catch shadows as solid figures to piece back together what was gone forever. Who would touch my hairy knee as he had? Love me like he had?
And who was I, to love them back?