When I was small, my best buddy was my neighbor Shawny. He taught me how to swing and to be honest, I loved him. He moved before me, and I remember at his going away party there were Sesame Street cookies. I don't know his full name. I don't know where he went. I have to admit, I think about him all the time. I wonder what he's like now, if he's doing well, if he remembers me. I want more than anything to find him again.
I've thought of him more recently because I found old pictures. None of the two of us, I don't know if those exist. When you're having fun, you don't care about the pictures. There are photos of me in kindergarten and first grade. Some of me and my BFF Hanna. Some of me and my family. There's even one of our dog as a puppy.
Seeing these pictures made me start to cry. I didn't want to grow up, it's hard and it means so much and it scares me. People leave and you have to take care of yourself. You can't fall back on mom and dad for everything. Looking at these photos I realized I already grew up a long time ago. I know what I want to do, what college I want to go to, where I want to live, almost everything. I miss being blissfully ignorant. I miss relying on my parents for everything I need. I would give almost anything to be a kid again.
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