One thought on “03-19-81”

  1. Happy Birthday

    My best friend, first love, first kiss.

    He was the embodiment of my my 17 year old self, my aspirations, my hopes, my motivation, my changes, my tears, my lack of maturity, my faults, my best memories, my dreams, and my perfect friend.

    Time. Time wasn’t even borrowed. Nor truly shared. Time was stolen. I stole his time. Much more time than I needed. Greed. Losing vision of the big picture. That he stayed my friend even when I rejected his admiration and genuine like. Why can’t I engrave that on every visible part of my body so that I can remember how he treated me. He liked me for myself. When will I ever do the same? He has my aspirations.
    But he changed. He felt different. I could never imagine how the word “different” terrified me. The thought of me asking “Do you still like me for who I am?” just scare the tears from their dark caves of emotion. To run anywhere and everywhere. After all, my wish to that question was the reason I liked him.

    Maybe even loved him.



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