The Non-Shriveling Rose

Scattered Chapters - Chapter 2 (Memories)

(Edited)

Every now and then, I get flashes from our past. I see scenes from the young love that we had when we were teenagers. When we used to stare at each other without saying a word, or when I peek a look to see if she was looking at me. When sometimes I used to look at her from far away and escape the scene once I see her noticing me. When I used to go and wait on the balcony knowing that she will pass by so I can see her.

When our way of communication was in the form of letters typed through our computers – sometimes even internet cafes' computers - and sent by MSN or Yahoo messengers. When all you can do is to wait for an answer for the sentence that you just sent by looking into your screen watching the three small dots blinking, waiting for the "typing" word to disappear for the reply to be seen. I remember the feeling of me going crazy when the internet connection gets disconnected. Or when her brother speaks to her and she signs off to keep me hanging.

I can see how we got excited when the phone service provider made an offer to reduce the cost of the SMS, and we could chat more often over the phone. She used to text me through her friend's phone, and I can't help but laugh when I remember the incident when I sent her a love poem, and her friend's sister called me and fought with me over the phone for sending such poem.

I remember receiving a call from her saying "This is my number,"  where it felt like finally I can hear her voice. I couldn't help but send her an SMS after our first call saying "I love you,". I still feel one of the best moments of my life when she called me worried about her mother's health and told me "You are kind," just before hanging up.

All these memories are stored in my head, and I can recall them whenever I want just like it is science fiction hologram screens from Minority Report movie where I can see the scenes through the air and press play whenever I want.

Yet I seem to have great difficulties in remembering anything else. When I meet one of my high schools colleagues I feel so embarrassed; because I don't even remember their names while they do remember my exam scores!

It seems like my brain deletes any other memories just to keep enough space for my memories with her.

I know looking back to these memories that our love was different. It was young and reckless. But it was innocent; we used to love each other even though we didn't understand love itself.

Life was simple with no complication; love was humble with no mixed emotions.

That is why our loved survived through all these years, because the core was pure, and the hearts were sure.