Campsite Memories of a teenage girl

I remember watching him through the window. I don’t know. We were like fourteen or some shit. I didn’t know how old he was. I just decided myself he would be like fifteen or something. I was pretty tall for my age back then anyway so I couldn’t use height as a determinate.  I would see he was about 5 ft 9 or something, I was probably 5 ft 8 at the time and I was like fourteen.  I remember I had been reading the Louise Rennison series Confessions of Georgia Nicolson so my ideas of love and lust I’d say were based upon that. I guess in some sense I saw him as my Robbie. He was everything I wanted when I was fourteen you know. I remember I thought he was super cool. I would watch him every day, he was like staying directly opposite me. It was down in Brighton. His hair was blonde but like really blonde. It was like yellowy white, I remember it but it’s kind of hard to describe the actual shade. He was pretty skinny, he wore these dark denim skinny jeans and vans. I don’t remember the exact design of his vans but it was definitely the skate shoe type. He wore them every day. I think my holiday was like a week or two weeks long and I was obsessed with him.  I would just watch him all the time, I didn’t want to go out unless he was going out and if he went out and we had no plans then I’d be pretty sad until he came back. I remember his car it was like a 4×4 goldish color. I remember one day I spent the day sitting outside and I basically sketch his caravan.   I drew everything and even wrote the logo and then sketched his car. I probably still have that drawing somewhere, it served its purpose though. I never wanted to forget and look, I’m like twenty-one now and I can just go back to that picture and find out the information.

I think he had a younger sister too, I definitely remember him looking after a small child at some point. I was so desperate to just go over and speak to him. It was so hard for me because I really wanted to be friends with him. So badly, but I just couldn’t. I tried one day, I built up the courage to go over and speak to him. That was it. He had two dogs, there were like a mix between a corgi and something else. I had a dog myself at the time. I would attempt to get his attention in any way I could. If he played with his dogs, I’d play with mine. I was literally watching his every move. I saw when he went to the camp shop and I’d try to get some money to go there too and just buy a magazine or something. I don’t know, it was difficult at times. I was only like early teens on holiday with my grandparents and they wouldn’t just let me go to the store you know. They had to come with me and to be honest I didn’t even have a real reason to go to the store. I just wanted to go because of him. I don’t even know what he brought, like maybe milk, bread or sweets or something. Back then I was a huge collector of things. I guess you can say I still am to a certain point.  I would go to like the urm the like tourist box with all the leaflets in and I’d just take one of everything I was interested in and just sit on the grass outside and read them. I constantly wanted his attention but often I never got it. He would sometimes look over in my direction and I kept telling myself like Ok the next time he looks I will wave. It was so hard when this happens because of, it’s like you have no idea how long he is there for or when his last day is. I only knew when I left.

I remember he left first though. I was so sad. I think I literally cried you know, It made me so sad because I just never got to see him again. I never spoke to him properly just that one time I went over to tell him his dogs were nice. I was so young then. I don’t even know what I wanted. I guess I would have liked to stay in contact you know, he was from like Birmingham. That’s only like 1 hour away from me. We could have stayed like text buddies or done that whole MSN thing that was about when we were teens.

There was so much about him I just assumed, I gave him a name I plucked from thin air, I gave him an age. A lot of the information I stored about him I’d thought of myself. I never got to know how old he was, or anything proper like that.  It sucked a little looking back, but it’s those memories I cherish the most. It was sad. It made me sad and it hurt but I remember it like it was yesterday. I even included him in some of the stories I wrote when I was younger. I think that was the thing I did, I took their appearance and I merged them into my characters. I lived in a big world of fantasy as a teen, it helped me. A lot.


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