I played with dolls and tea sets, and you played with cars and robots. I would borrow your cars if my dolls needed to go somewhere, and you would come to my tea parties for the hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies. We’d work together to put together countless jigsaws, and build huge buildings with our Lego blocks.
Let’s run around in that playground again. Where we’d have our picnic lunches with orange juice and cheese sandwhiches, on the picnic mat with butterflies and flowers that you never liked. We’d play tag and hide and seek, ride on the see saw and go on the slides. And the swings, where I’d sit down, and you’d be the gentleman and push me till I went higher and higher till I felt like I could fly.
Let’s go to the beach and make sand castles and run from the waves, scared to go too far into the water. We’d feel the soft sand stick to our wet feet, and let our clothes get covered in sand. We’d lose our sandals in the water, and our mums would rescue them for us. You would fill the buckets with sand, and I’d look for pretty shells to make our castle the prettiest castle on the beach.
Let’s go back to the nights when we would tell each other stories, share our dreams, our fears. I’d have my teddy bear with me, and you would be too brave for something like that. But noises in the dark would make you whisper my name, and I’d reach for your hand in the dark as we stared out the open window and wish on a shooting star that nothing would ever change.