God, those days.
It almost hurts sometimes, remembering them.
We weren't the super close childhood best friends because you were Felix's and Rieka was mine. But as far as friends went, we were close and that in itself made all the difference when we were dating.
Some couples spend days, weeks, months, texting each one another and Snapchatting and using their devices as connections, rarely talking in person.
Unlike them, we already knew everything about the other, there wasn't a point in nights of texting when one look across the room expressed everything we needed to say. Instead of nights of staring at a screen, wistfully wondering what the other was doing, you and I would spend nights on the roof outside my window, just sitting and talking.
Sometimes not even talking at all. Because we didn't need words for everything.
Our connection felt raw, emotional, real. Something that could never be replicated.
Through thick and thin, rain and shine.
Days of burning sun and nights of cool air with the moon hanging in the sky.
Our evenings of cooling emotions and dawns and dusks of rouge, lavender, azure, and marigold. Shining sunsets and warm sunrises.
Scorching summers and numbing winters, rainy springs, and colorful autumns.
Tears of pain and tears of joy.
A life of almost perfection, of the high school years people could only dream about and read in books.
While we had our own joking nicknames for each other, you always called me "Mon ange" and I called you "Amore". Mon ange meant 'my angel' in French and amore meaning love. I was your angel and to me, you were love, just simple love.
Neither of us was French or Italian exactly, but the nicknames stuck, especially whenever our friends would give us strange looks and ask us what it meant.
You were the smarter one between the two of us, no matter how much you denied it. Thriving in biology and chemistry, working through the years of math with ease, from geometry to algebra 2 to trigonometry to calculus, you always got up to honors classes while I let myself stay back in A. But while you were amazing at math and science, I was the one you turned to with help in English or history. My memory was seemingly better than yours at remembering those topics.
During the midterms and the finals of high school, we helped each other study, the two of us pulling through and scoring well in most, if not all, the subjects.
Teachers would often say to couples, "No physical contact, no kissing, no anything" in our school, but they turned a blind eye when it came to me and you. We were close even before, hugging and kisses on cheeks and "I love you"s. It was only after some time during our relationship did we ever cross the boundary of 'just friends' type of activities.
A lot of people considered us to be the cliche "Childhood friends turned lovers who would live the rest of their lives together" and I suppose they were right, in a way. Except they all missed something, we never got the last part.
There was no happy ending, no "living the rest of our lives together".
By no fault of mine, except that I would be leaving and you wouldn't be with me.
And you couldn't handle that.
Hey to you too,
We were too weak to expect it to end. Too naive to believe in the possibility. I wonder, would things be different if we had?
~Me?
P.S. I guess after time the reality that I'm an adult, with responsibilities and issues, got to me. I couldn't find the same joy I used to, attending that festival.
Sent✔
YOU ARE READING
Remember When
Historia Corta"Hey, Remember when you and I were sitting next to each other for about half an hour watching a movie and you didn't notice that you were leaning on me and thought I was a wall?" A series of emails about memories of days long past.
