As a kid, I had a good number of friends, but my closest was the boy that lived across the street from my house. Though it took some time before we became really close, you could say that I had a crush on him even before knowing what that word meant.
Richard, a dark olive-skinned boy with his natural curls of hair and his mesmerizing eyes. I didn't take notice of all these as a child, but one thing I could say was that he was really handsome.
Back then, as kids, when the other kids would suggest we stage a play, I and Richie, as I fondly called him, would take the parent role. We termed it the "daddy and mommy" role. It was fun because we would really act like our elderly parents.
As a result of this closeness, our parents called each other in-laws, and every other person in the neighborhood knew about our little friendship.
One time, probably around the time that we were both 10 years of age, Richie fought one of the neighborhood kids because of me. The other kid was older than us, but he wouldn't let me be, and this made me dread walking back home from school because he would always be there to mess up the afternoon for me.
So, one day, as I was on my way returning home from school, I saw him at his usual spot. I decided to pretend that I hadn't seen him, but he had already caught up with me and was making an attempt to touch my face.
"Leave me alone!!!" I yelled at him with my tiny voice.
He only laughed because he felt no one could've heard my voice, so he tried to touch my face again, but this time around, I couldn't feel his hands. It took some time to see that Richie had come to my aid. It was funny watching him beat the older boy, but when it seemed like he was about to get an upper hand, I helped my friend get away, and we ran home with our hands intertwined.
Later that night, Richie came by my house, and we sat together to solve our school take-home assignments. I noticed the scratch on his arm, which wasn't there before.
"What happened to you?" I asked and touched the bruises.
"It's nothing serious. It's just a scratch." He lied.
"I know how you got those bruises. If your mom sees it, she'll be mad at us." I complained.
"She won't see it. I'll cover it." He replied.
"We'll try to avoid him from now on." I said, and he nodded; then we focused on getting our assignments done.
Richard and I grew so fond of each other that even after so many years had passed, people thought that we were dating. But the funny thing was the fact that we weren't. In fact, we never dated.
There was a time that my childish crush on him steered into something deeper. I thought maybe at this point we would become lovers seeing that we were already of age, but with time, I realized that I only cared for him as a friend, and I put a stop to the silly imaginations that were in my head.
In our friendship, Richard was the muscle, and I was the brains. He never hesitated to take it out on anyone who he felt was trying to humiliate me or bully me.
"Richie, you need to stop fighting everyone. People will hate you for that." I scolded him one time after he had just gotten off from a fight with one of the guys who lived in the neighborhood.
"They should learn to treat you right then. You don't even fight back, and you want me to watch them hurt you? I can't do that." He replied.
Despite the fact that I didn't like him fighting, it felt good to see someone decide to look out for me at all times. Richard was the older brother that I never could've asked for, though we were practically age mates.
Some years later, after our high school days, Richard traveled out of the country to further his studies. The night before he left, our parents left us to ourselves as we couldn't control the emotions that came with saying goodbye.
"Don't be letting anyone bully you. If they try to hurt you, retaliate, or you can write down their names. Whenever I return, I'll get back at them." Richard said to me.
I chuckled through the tears and hugged him close.
"Be one of the good guys over there, okay?" I advised him.
That night, we didn't sleep. We watched movies, played games, and talked till daybreak. And when it was time for him to leave, he insisted that I follow him to the airport, and at the airport, we hugged and said our goodbyes.
Though so many years have passed and he still hasn't returned from the states, we still talk and make jokes. He found a girl that he loved, and they dated. I, on the other hand, had a boyfriend too.
"Does he treat you nice?" Richard asked me during one of our many video calls.
"Yeah, he does. How about our Cinderella? Hope she treats you right?" I asked him.
"She tries. There are good days and there are bad days, but I'm happy." He replied.
I stared at his never-changing face and smiled. I realized that I had missed him so much.
"What's with that weird smile?" He asked me.
"You didn't see anything." I replied, and he laughed.
We spent the next few hours talking about school and the friends we've made. Up until today, Richard remains the best friend I've ever had.
Though there's no telling when he would return, our friendship has never wavered. Sometimes I look back at how we started as kids, and I smile because I know that this friendship was a match made in heaven.
Thanks for reading.
