A note for J

We must have had several encores, but as my high school days come to a close for the final time, as results day looms, I have been reminded of friends, old and new.
When I was in year five (age 9) , one of my best friends, let us call him J, left to move up north, a premature blow as I thought we would have at least one more year together. J was funny, smart, had the same interests and was a great friend.  He would hang around with me and my friends, the only boy, and he could have been teased but he didn't stop. We made up plays and games and had great times!
I wonder what he's doing now, what he looks like, whether he still has that slightly babyish podgy face and, if you are reading this J (it's unlikely because we havent spoken in six years) don't be offended but I always thought he might turn out to be gay. Not because he hung around almost solely with girls but because of his mannerisms and interests and most of all his compassion. He wasn't a tiny little therapist or selfless or even really really kind but it was acceptance. We could always just be ourselves with him, or be what we wanted, we were always laughing and playing and acting out our own plays (if you must know they were James bond comedies) and we never had that much drama, of the social kind anyway. We were all just free unburdend youths, even if weren't necessarily, having a laugh.
I went on to do some amazing things that J would loved to have done with me; I performed in front of hundreds maybe altogether a couple of  thousand people acting, just like we did, I did well in maths which he was always so good at and helped me with on occasions.
So thank you J, for popping into my head and reminding me of a friendship, the like of which I hope to have again at college.
Oh and if you do read this... Hello stranger!!

M xxxx