Back in Georgia I would always go to a park because I could always climb and get my energy out. I would go to the park once a week. Sometimes I would go to the park to ride my bike and go down big hills.

One day there was a kid. His name was James. James was a boy who ironically went to the same school as me and he was in my same grade, but we were not in the same classes. We would climb metal supports to slides, do things that 7-year old’s wish they could do.

One day James was telling me how when he was young, he fell out of a tree. James told me to climb a tree you had to step on a hard and sturdy branch so it wouldn’t break, and snap while your standing on it. Eventually I was higher most of the trees. (and they were tall).

Me and James would play in the grass and make forts out of trees. We would also get mosquito bites all the time from going into the trees. We would talk we would run around the playground playing tag even though we are both fast. But….

That all changed when I moved to Virginia. I never talked to James ever again. But we are still both in the same grade. But not in the same school, county, state, and parks that we go to. Ever since I moved, I have been going to parks riding my bike or my skateboard. Now without someone my age to play with I just decided to not go to a playground.

The problem with moving is I can’t see James anymore. The only contact I had of him was when my dad used to message his mom to ask when they/we were going to come to the park.

To this day when I go to parks and jump off stuff that other people wish they could do, or climb up supports, or jump off swings. I remember James. My old best friend.

It has been so long since I have seen James that it was because of my dad that I didn’t start calling him

Jack. I kind of knew his name was James I just knew it started with a J. If I ever saw James again, I would be excited.