You’ve forgotten why you lost contact with your closest childhood friend, but you haven’t forgotten the days you invited him over to play video games and instead conducted two-man airsoft skirmishes in the forest behind your house. Nor have you forgotten the bizarre short films you created, in which you portrayed a murderous Bosnian chef who cooked toxic meals and he played the fourth-wall-breaking cameraman who hurled plastic bananas at your head as you ran through your unscripted spiel.
You can’t forget the weekends you’d bike to his house to cackle at episodes of Impractical Jokers, nor the nighttime drives during which you two would talk about where you wished to be in ten years: he in a log cabin nestled in a Finnish forest, you somewhere in France.
The younger you believed you’d grow alongside him. Water those dreams together.
Now you hope that you’ll one day find him sweeping through the Finnish glades, and that he’ll ask you to walk with him.