Freewriting

– I Remember Essay, Research Paper


 I Remember…..


I remember the kid next door with whom I grew up, a short and stocky lad


named Donald Meaux. Did I say stocky? A modern day Pillsbury Dough Boy with


high top sneakers and knee high-socks is a more accurate description. He has been


my next door neighbor for more than eighteen years. We met as most children do


through the friendship of our parents. Our fathers shared cold beers in the evening,


while our mothers gossiped in the kitchen over tea. Their two diapered infants


played in the playpen together day in and day out. In this friendship, which was


similar to that of a married couple, Donald and I had our ups and our downs; yet for


ten years, we spent day after day together. We often fought, and then we made up


once the ice cream man came around the corner in his magical truck. But, like most


good things, the friendship wore away with time.


I remember Donald as a spoiled, aggravating four year old. Neither of these


are characteristics that anyone looks for in a lifelong friendship. Yet, characteristics


like these are not very important to a child of four. At four years old, people hardly


ever make logical decisions. After all, Donald and I did share a bowl of dog food


for dessert every now and then. For the first few years, our friendship was flawless.


We spent day after day together. On the weekends, we took turns sleeping at each


other’s houses. I used to love sleeping at Don’s house, because we were allowed to


stay up later there than at my house. Another thing I loved about their house was


the coveted “midnight snack,” which consisted of either chocolate milk or Fruity


Pebbles. We kept ourselves awake until midnight, ate our snack, and then went to


sleep. We remained good, close friends for years.


As time went on, Don and I started having problems as friends, which was


quite understandable since we spent every day together. Needless to say, we got on


each other’s nerves. He was obnoxious and aggravating. I was ornery and a


momma’s boy. I remember how he loved Nintendo. He used

to play for hours on


end, and he was good. One day he was playing Super Mario 3, and he was about to


defeat the game. Just as he was winning, I turned off the television and blinded his


view.


When Don turned the television back on, it was too late; he had lost. He was


furious with me and literally attacked me like a wild predator. He scratched,


clawed, and bit me, while I punched and kicked him for at least thirty seconds.


Then we got tired and fell down. After that, we just started laughing and that was it.


The fight was over. This kind of friendship is one that people do not expect to end.


As anyone can guess, time took its toll on our friendship. The friendship


deteriorated during our first year in high school. There was not anything


complicated about it; it just happened. He kept his old friends, and I made new


ones. I played sports and he did not . I went out on the weekends and he stayed


home. As the years passed, we found ourselves even farther apart. We even found


ourselves avoiding each other at school to bypass an awkward situation, and I


stopped going over to his house after school. We lived less than fifty yards away,


but for years it felt as though it were miles.


Over the eighteen years that I have known Donald, I have learned a lot. I


have learned that people can and will change. I have also learned that bad things


get worse if you let them linger, like old meat left out on the counter to spoil.


Finally, I have learned that there is a bright side to everything, even this. About two


weeks ago, Donald came home from Baton Rouge and stopped by my house. We


ended up talking for hours about old times and school. We spoke for the first time


in over three years and had what was probably the most interesting conversation the


two of us have ever had. Is this not ironic? For years we lived so close physically,


yet so far apart socially. We lived next door to each other, but could not stop by


each other’s house just to talk. Only when one of us moved far away to college did


we find it in ourselves to once again visit with each other.

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