The second time around (?)

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 friendster messages and 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 common computer shop. To our afternoon strolls and orange sunsets. To the ATM machine and the National Bookstore that witnessed our story. 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 weird boy started to like the usual famous girl. Eventually, the glances lingered. Eventually, the smiles lingered as well. Eventually, he started to like her 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 shared notes, laughs and jokes. He started to ace his subjects with the inspiration. She started to fail because of the distraction.

He really like her a lot that he even know all the stuffs about her. With his young heart he loved the first feeling of love. 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 good girl to a rebel lady. You’ve matured and took one step towards your dreams. You still value your friends alot. 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 girl. And you know me as a fifteen-year-old boy. Some things stay the same, but most things change. We’re not fifteen anymore. There’s no romance. No magic. Just reality.

I was in rage when i discovered what you've done to me. Our supposed to be Perfect Relationship were just broken by just one weakness, falling in the idea of falling for someone. That hurts me alot. I dont even know why im still talking to you. I really dont know

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.