I don’t know what to make of you. The past weekend was just too overwhelming for me. With one moment of mutual boredom and a series of text messages, you were back in my life.
Or maybe you just brought me back to the past. To the white walls and red-tiled floors of our high school. To our afternoon strolls and orange sunsets. To numerous poems, first dances, and young love.
I always felt that high school, being one of the best parts of my life, went by too fast. In that fleeting world, we met each other. The usual bad boy started to like the usual good girl. Eventually, the glances lingered. Eventually, the smiles lingered as well. Eventually, she started to like him too.
She was his inspiration. He was her welcome distraction. They exchanged stories, ideas and poems. They were friends and wished each other good luck before exams. They talked to each other more during Chem periods than in between classes. They shared notes, laughs and jokes. He started to ace his subjects with the inspiration. She started to fail because of the distraction.
She really liked him a lot that she became jealous of his admiration of a pretty Bio teacher. He really liked her a lot that he knew who had already asked her to the prom. And though they didn’t come together, prom night was still special. They danced under the glow of fake silver moons and blue stars. He stepped on her foot twice and blushed. She chuckled at his blunders. He held her hand. She thought they fit perfectly. It was more than romantic. It was magical.
Now, it's nostalgic. I can't believe I still remember all this. They were stashed away for years at the back of my mind.
Now, getting to know you once again, I can say that you've changed yet still stayed the same. You're a mere projection of the fifteen-year-old you. You've grown from a bad boy to a frat man. You've matured and took one step towards your dreams. You still value your friends. Maybe you still write poems. Maybe you still have the same stride and the same look. Maybe you still excel in the things you give your heart to Maybe
The truth is, I don't know you anymore. I just pretend I do. We've both obviously grown since high school, and all I know of you is a fifteen-year-old boy. And you know me as a fifteen-year-old girl. Some things stay the same, but most things change. We're not fifteen anymore. There's no romance. No magic. Just reality.
Some believe in rekindling old flames. Some say that once there's a spark, the flame will never die out. I believe that old flames can be blown out just as easily as they can be rekindled. I know, because that's what I did.
Or maybe you just brought me back to the past. To the white walls and red-tiled floors of our high school. To our afternoon strolls and orange sunsets. To numerous poems, first dances, and young love.
I always felt that high school, being one of the best parts of my life, went by too fast. In that fleeting world, we met each other. The usual bad boy started to like the usual good girl. Eventually, the glances lingered. Eventually, the smiles lingered as well. Eventually, she started to like him too.
She was his inspiration. He was her welcome distraction. They exchanged stories, ideas and poems. They were friends and wished each other good luck before exams. They talked to each other more during Chem periods than in between classes. They shared notes, laughs and jokes. He started to ace his subjects with the inspiration. She started to fail because of the distraction.
She really liked him a lot that she became jealous of his admiration of a pretty Bio teacher. He really liked her a lot that he knew who had already asked her to the prom. And though they didn’t come together, prom night was still special. They danced under the glow of fake silver moons and blue stars. He stepped on her foot twice and blushed. She chuckled at his blunders. He held her hand. She thought they fit perfectly. It was more than romantic. It was magical.
Now, it's nostalgic. I can't believe I still remember all this. They were stashed away for years at the back of my mind.
Now, getting to know you once again, I can say that you've changed yet still stayed the same. You're a mere projection of the fifteen-year-old you. You've grown from a bad boy to a frat man. You've matured and took one step towards your dreams. You still value your friends. Maybe you still write poems. Maybe you still have the same stride and the same look. Maybe you still excel in the things you give your heart to Maybe
The truth is, I don't know you anymore. I just pretend I do. We've both obviously grown since high school, and all I know of you is a fifteen-year-old boy. And you know me as a fifteen-year-old girl. Some things stay the same, but most things change. We're not fifteen anymore. There's no romance. No magic. Just reality.
Some believe in rekindling old flames. Some say that once there's a spark, the flame will never die out. I believe that old flames can be blown out just as easily as they can be rekindled. I know, because that's what I did.
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