highschool love

I have this treasure box inside my dressing room. It’s filled with letters, pictures, gifts, old movie tickets and even static cars you used to assemble and give to me. All these things just makes me want to remember how we started things out before we get to who we are right now. 

I still remember when I first saw you after we knew each other. It was at one of those waiting areas in front of the school. You were with your friends, and you were wearing eyeliner. It was unusual for a guy but I liked it. As I walked with my chin up, trying to be a woman at 15, I was expecting a hello but instead you waved shyly. It was fine and for a moment I felt butterflies.  I’m sure you didn’t know how I felt about you. You said you liked me, I already liked you, but  I was still embarrassed to let you know.

Do you recall those glow sticks sold in different colors during concerts? It made me remember our “first date”. It was at the school dance. My hair was deep black and I had bangs covering my left eye. I was wearing a black spaghetti strap with red plaid skirt and colorful leggings.  You were wearing black shirt and jeans. I was a rocker chick. You said you loved that. You were astonished about how I played drums even if I’m not that good like you are. 

I even saw a bottle of paper stars in which you made one by one. The bottle was covered with pictures of us in the size of a 2x2 picture. You placed glue on it so it would stick on the bottle. You used glue to make it shine like varnish. You gave that bottle to me on our first month together. It was so sweet and I miss how you’d use your creative juices to please me. 

Remember how we’d exchange letters everyday? I still have one of my highschool notebooks with me. As I flip through the pages, I saw unfinished letters addressed to you. I still remember how I try to make perfect every letter I write. If I write something wrong, if I write in bad penmanship, I turn the page over and start all over again. 

When I look at these boxes,  there is nothing I want to forget about us. I always like to remember how we started things out as friends to lovers.  I was 15, you were 16. We were both young, we were both reckless. We kissed, we hugged but we never fully understood what it meant until now. We didn’t know what love is really about, we didn’t know how things would work out between us. We didn’t know if we would click— but we did, until now. 

Now, I’m 18, you’re 20. It’s been years, and as if nothing has changed. We are still the same two people who used to eat lunch at the cafeteria, and sit at those catwalk benches in front of the school auditorium. We are still those two people who are passionate with each other. 

I adored you in every way you are. I tried to fall in love, I tried to look for your imperfection in others, but you were always the one. I guess you will always be my first true love.

This was posted 1 year ago. It has 13 notes.
  1. quisha posted this