"play this whenever you feel sad and I'll cry with you, wherever I am."
It's a vague memory in the back of my mind, but it's there.
Only she probably has boobs now and is tall.
I still don't know why she left, maybe that's why she haunts me so. Because her parents never gave me a reason of why they had to move. But, even though I was still a puny kid, I know it must've been pretty big just by the looks on their faces.
When Amy and I were in the tree, we always used to discuss why her parents always looked at her funny, why they cried when she said her chest hurts. We never came up with an explanation, so we usually ended up getting bored and returning to our usual post on top of the hay stacks.
But the memory which leaves the most impression is the day she left, when she gave me back a present I'd given her for her birthday; that music box. It wasn't even that special. But when she gave it back to me it made me cry so much I thought I'd flood the entire village in which we lived at the time.
But she didn't cry, she just smiled and said those ridiculously mature words which made me feel even worse for being a wuss.
I always laugh when I remember the time machine. But I've never dug it up, I don't why I don't. Maybe I'm just waiting for a girl from eight years ago, who's most likely to have forgotten me, to come back with a big grin on her face; telling me she's moving back into the house which has been vacant since she left. Slightly weird, you'd expect someone to have moved in by now. I mean, it's getting ridiculous.
I'm either desperate, or an idiot. Because it's just pitiful to wait for a forgotten person to show up on your doorstep after eight years apart.
I really am stupid. Maybe I should just give up on the memory of her.