It’s the last time I’m able to visit my best friend. At least that was our label the last time we talked. I never told him I loved him when we were kids, because I’ve never had an opportunity. I wanted to tell him at a time I felt was right, but so far I haven’t found the right one.

It’s upsetting because I was a coward. I never told him because I was afraid of what he would think. I never thought he could love someone like me. He was always gentle, kind, and cared for everyone.

We grew up together, and had been neighbors since we were born. Our parents met at college, and our families have bonded ever since. We have had so many great memories that I could never pick one to be my favorite.

There was a time when he got water guns for his birthday. We asked if we could open them, and play outside. When our parents told us it was fine, we gathered all the neighborhood kids, and had a “war”. Technically it was everyman for themselves, but I only focused on him, and as did he.

“I’m coming to get you!”

“Not if I get you first Caleb!” I shouted after him, as I chased him up the drive way. I thought I had him until I tripped over my shoelace, and fell onto the curb. I heard Caleb yell my name as I stood up.

“Oh God! Are you ok?” he questioned, as he inspected my head, looking for blood or scratches. I shook it off, and told him I was fine, but then he did something I never expected. He kissed my forehead, and he told me that he hopes I feel better. I was head over heels at that point moving forward.

This was eight years ago, and I’m sixteen now. I’ve been waiting eight years to tell him I liked him, and two to tell him I loved him. I’ve still never found the courage to tell him. I’ve never forgotten how I fell in love either.

I’ve never found the crowd that suited my best interests. I was just a nobody walking through the school halls to most people, and an answer provider to others. Caleb on the other hand was sporty, smart, and may I say on the good looking side. He knew he was because he had girls lined up for him everywhere he went, but was always modest about it.

We were in school, freshman year, and there were a couple of boys who were on Caleb’s football team who decided to accompany me by my locker right before the first bell. All of a sudden I hear my name being passed between the two boys, and some not so nice things following it. I’ve never felt so ashamed in my whole life. I couldn’t believe that’s how people thought about me. I ran to the nearest bathroom, but I ran into a wall. At least at the time I thought it was a wall. It was Caleb, and he already had his arms wrapped around my waist, whispering comforting words into my ear to calm me down.

At home that day, Caleb stood right there reaching for the door handle as if he was about to walk into my house. He had a bruise on his left check, and his knuckles looked a little messed up, so I got a little worried.

He then told me the whole story of how he beat up the two guys who were saying horrid things about me, because he happened to be right around the corner from me, and heard it all. I’ve never forgotten anything he has done for me.

I told my mother I was headed to visit Caleb for the last time before we moved to Maine. Once I reached my destination, I opened up the gate, and walked up the long narrow path. I used to stop by almost everyday, but it became less and less as time went on. I finally have the courage to tell him that I love him. Even though I may never see him again.

I stop once I find the stone carved with his full name imprinted in a fancy lettering. I kneel down, and place a few flowers I’ve found in Mom’s garden this morning. There were so many things I wanted to tell him, but I can’t now. It’s to late. He’s gone.