He and I were slouched over holding his old rugged Playstation 2 controllers playing Call of Duty in the basement. I glance over to see tears falling from his eyes. Don’t cry, whatever you do, don’t cry. Focus on killing the bad guys in the game and not the tears. Feeling a vibration in my pocket, I pull my cell phone out and gently flip it open to read a text from my mom saying, “Time to come home.”

“James, my mom wants me home.” Both of us know this is the last time.

I’m heading upstairs and I’m looking back at all the memories we had in the basement. Playing one on one on James' mini basketball hoop, chugging Oreos and milk in under thirty minutes, and investing hours into a video game to see if we could beat it. Every time we went downstairs, we would slap the sign James made when he was little that says,“Play Like a Champion Today,” just like Notre Dame does before every football game.
I’m putting my shoes on, and I say, “Goodbye everybody,” as droplets of tears start dripping from my eyes and slowly my eyes are flooded with salty water.

The moment I see James, I begin hugging him. I tell him, “I’m gonna miss you so much,” and, “you will always be my best friend.” While we hug, he says the same things back to me.

I start to open the door to leave, and I just can’t separate from him. All the memories of shooting hoops in the front yard, bouncing on his trampoline, and throwing the football in the snow every winter are rapidly going through my mind. James has been my other half for nine years, and I wouldn’t be complete without him. Feeling my tears fall down my cheek and onto his shirt, I gave him one last hug. That was our final goodbye.

I cried the entire time as I walked the fifty yards back to my house and up to my parent’s room. I have never cried more in my life and hope that I will never cry this much again. It was a couple of days before July 7th, the day my family moved to Portland, Oregon. On this day, I was doing what I had done for the past nine years, hanging out with James. James was my best friend who lived two doors down from me and was the closest thing to being a perfect guy. He was about my height when we were young but slowly got taller, and had short black hair, which he’s had ever since he was little. When you walked into his room, the walls are covered with baseball caps, posters of athletes, jerseys, and a painting of Wrigley Field. He dominated at all sports, and he was the kid you wanted to be around, and he could make anyone laugh with his cheesy jokes. We immediately connected at the age of three playing Bob the Builder, and dominating youth football with him as the quarterback and me as the center. We carpooled to school every day together at Patterson Elementary School, and in 6th grade, we walked to the bus stop through sun, rain, or snow.

I never realized that someone who lived 50 yards from me could make such an impact in my life. In today’s world, people don’t realize the impact someone has on one another until it is too late. We go and live our lives every day without knowing that this person has made our lives better and have made yourself become a better person. The biggest impact James had on me was his positivity. Every day, when I rang the doorbell, James would answer it with a smile on his face and say, “Dude, what’s up?”

In the moment I wouldn’t think of it much, I figured it was just a friendly and welcoming greeting. But as I look back, James always had a smile and a positive attitude. I have found that the positive energy he gave to me for all those years has slowly transferred to me. When the family and I finally moved to Portland, I kept a positive attitude. Everything is going to work out. I’m going to be okay. Keep smiling and be happy. Soon my positive attitude would just become an everyday thing as many people have asked me, “Brody, do you ever stop smiling,” or have pointed out that they never see me sad.

The positivity James gave to me has made me a better person because every day I always have a smile on my face and I bring positive energy to everyone I meet, and everywhere I go.