Ice Cream on Metropolitan's Steps.

'We used to be close. I admit it. Like, reallyreally close. He was my best friend. We sat together in class and hung out after school, saw each other on weekends and talked on the phone til dawn. He was there for me when I laughed, when I went bezerk, but never when I cried. And I rarely cried, even so, he was never there for me. We grew up, naturally and like almost all friends, we outgrew each other. It was heartbreaking. We stopped the calling, we stopped the note-writing and we even stop our nick-name calling. That was the end. For me. He had his friends, I had mine. We had our differences, and we decided mutually and wordlessly that it was better to move on with the current profile of each other etched clearly in our minds. The last day of school that year, he gave me a sweet. And just for that five minutes, we were thrust back into the days when I'd laugh at the fart-noises he made with his mouth and the way he blew his bubblegum so big it'd envelope his nose when it burst. I gave him a hug. A meaningful one. And after that, we were both gone.

Two weeks ago, I saw him again. And this time, I wasn't prepared for it. Sometimes you need to be psychologically prepared to meet special people - people you know would leave a strong impact on your life, even if its just for awhile. I didn't recognize him at first, though when he spoke, his voice rang with ab old familiarity, something I wouldn't forget. But I was hoping he'd recognize me. We'd both change so much, I wouldn't blame him if he didn't. He stood there, like an actor in the middle of the bakery, so caught up in the economy of motion. When he finally saw me, he grinned and said,'Hey, you look like my friend. I haven't seen her in a long while.'
It was far from all my other expectations. I smiled and said,'Well, maybe she's thinking the same thing.' I walked out of that shop. And I'm glad I did it.'