The Poetic Half Truths of High School Journal Keepers

I don’t remember when I met her, I don’t remember if we ever talked. I just remember her.  She filled my 9/10^th grade heart. I would go out of my way between classes just so I could see her. Every once in awhile our eyes would meet and both of our heads would immediately drop down to our feet. I would sit at a lunch table and hide in with the crowd and sneak peeks while she ate. A little stalkerish, I know, but I was in love. I wrote her name in huge red letters inside my Pee Chee folder. I wrote it inside so no one would know. In my head we would have all these conversations about everything and nothing. At night I would sit in my room imagining what our little life would be like together. I would imagine going to Holiday Roller Rink with her. Holding hands and skating together, Kissing her goodnight at the end of the night, winning her a teddy bear at the carnival, talking on the phone while watching the same TV show. Innocent 15 year old thoughts. To this day I still remember her in her red and white striped bikini, standing up and spreading out her towel.

We recently got in touch again. A lot has changed for both of us. But at the same time a lot is the same. She told me she felt the same way back then. We were both just to damn shy to do anything.

Growing up I would think of her, wondering what she was doing now. Wondering if she remembered me and if she thought of me from time to time.

Am I crushing again? Who knows, I’m just happy that she and are I talking for the first time in twenty years.

Getting to know each other again for the first time.