James: an old best friend

I lost a friend once. I don't mean in the relational sense, rather I am speaking of their physical presence in this world. His name was James and his life was taken at the age of twelve. We met when we were both in the fifth grade, and we were inseparable. We did everything together. We were always at each other's houses, we had the same classes in middle school, we had sleep overs, and we would even play "Jurassic Park." We were two boys getting ready to embark on a journey to becoming men. We were almost at that age where we would have to find our true identies as we prepared ourselves for our future lives. But for the time being we were just enjoying being kids. James was my best friend right from the moment I met him. I was in a new school. I had no friends and not too many people wanted to be my friend. James sat in the corner of the room and right away I could tell he wasn't like everyone else. He was like me. He was outcast from his surrounding peers. His shunning perhaps was a result of a time before I knew him, but mine was because I was yet again the "new kid." I do not remember exactly how we were introduced, but I do know that we became best friends soon after that moment. Our friendship carried over into Middle School where we had even a harder time fitting in. We stuck together though. We were bound and determined to get through all the crap that was thrown our way. Our friendship lasted for almost three years until that moment came for me to move yet again. I did not want to move but I had no choice. My father had received orders to go to Limestone, Maine and I had no say in the matter. James and I would carry on like my time was not nearing, but deep down we knew our time together was drawing to an end. It was my last day of school and James was no where to be found. He decided he didn't want to go to school that day so he convinced his parents to let him stay home. I didn't get to say goodbye to my best friend that day. Instead I talked to him briefly on the phone just before I left town. The thing is our conversation was that of an argument. I don't remember all the details, but I'm pretty sure I was just upset that I wasn't going to get to see my best friend before I had to leave. Sometimes its just easier to be mad at someone before you have to leave too. It is a lot easier to be angry than to be sad. I told him I would give him a call though and hung up. That was the last time I talked to James. My family and I began our long journey from California to Maine around Christmas time. We stopped shortly here in Tennessee to celebrate Christmas with family and then returned to the long road before us. We finally reached Limestone and settled in when I decided it was time to give James a call. I decided I would call my other friend Scott first just to catch up because I knew I would be on the phone for awhile with James. Scott was the one who gave me the bad news. He told me James had been struck by a vehicle and died of internal bleeding. Thinking it was a cruel practical joke I called him a liar. He told me in all seriousness it was true and even had his mother tell me what had happened. My stomach sank and I wept for my friend. I decided I still needed to call his family, and I did. His mother answered and she said, "Oh Jeremy, I'm so sorry." I told her I had heard the news and that I was the one that was sorry. I couldn't believe I had lost my best friend up to that point in my life. He was gone forever. He no longer had a chance to live out his childhood and become a man. His life was cut short at twelve and he had no control over that. I often think back and remember James. I sometimes try to imagine what his life would be like now if he had not passed away. I think he would be a movie director. He loved movies and he was determined to live his dream. I had never seen such drive in a person before, especially in a person that young. I hope that I have a drive like that. A drive to live out my passions and dreams. I don't have all the answers yet, but I'm trying. All I know is we only have one life and we had better live it as well as we can. It is a privilege to have lived this long, and I hope and plan on living as long as I can. James inspires me to this day. I had to grow up a little that day I learned about his death and I'm still growing up. My only regret? That slight disagreement the two of us had before I hung up that phone for the last time. I don't beat myself up over it though. We shared a lot of great times and I know he wouldn't want me to live my life full of regret. Cherish the ones that are in your life now. Cherish the friendships you make and make them grow. That is what James taught me and I couldn't be more grateful for that.