okay let me tell you a memory of mine that surfaced in my head this morning. I’ve been in love only once; I’ve never really had many chances to find love due to my mental illness, which had me secluded from life. I was on holiday in England and met this boy who was part of the family who hosted me and another girl, he was around one year older than me. I remember one day it was raining, I was feeling very bad due to my mood swings and my italian friend was trying to confort me and asked me what she could do to help me, I thought about it for a bit and then said: “let’s go out under the rain”, I remember she smiled and convinced me to bring the boy along. We walked for hours under the rain and talked about many different things, fed some swans and at one point I was getting in a bad mood again, so the boy whispered to my friend “I think she’s going down again”, and I said “no, I’m not” but actually I was on the verge of tears (mood swings will do that to you) so he cut an hydrangea from a bush and gave it to me with a smile. And I remember I was in love in that moment, it was like a fairytale. Now it may seem stupid and childish, but I remember the magic of that moment so well.
It’s hard to walk down this lane when every minute there is a choice to make, an intersection to contemplate.
But I’ll stick to this one as it’s been a while since I visited your house at the end of this lane.
You’re worth it.
Every minute spent with you was a minute of real, loud and cheek reddening laughter.
But you weren’t lame and you weren’t mean.
You were mature and wise but also so damn funny. I don’t think I’ve come across a person like you ever since.
You adapted quickly, understood completely and didn’t care who it was - you just had to make them laugh and have a great time.
Out of all those funny days I remember one the most and I have a feeling when it comes to time spent with me you would pick that one too. Or maybe not. Maybe that was just another silly, epic day for you.
It was our games period and the next was SUPW (socially useful productive work - or that’s what I think the full form was anyway) and we had both forgot to carry a piece of smooth wood.
There were some workers working at the back of the ground, for what now is the children’s playground. There was a lot of wood and we weren’t the kinds to give up so we went up to that shady looking shed right at the end and asked that old man if he could give us some of the scrap wood.
He didn’t understand.
So we said again.
He didn’t understand.
So we looked at each other and we shook it off to try again.
And again and again and again.
Now I don’t know if it was because he wanted to get rid of us or he did understand us, but he started to frantically shake his head.
We were finally happy he understood us on the 9th time and we continued to tell him we wanted two and of which exact size.
He nodded and we kept explaining further and once we were done we realized we weren’t really for he just kept shaking his head.
I know that it was funnier when it happened and I know I’m missing out on all the details and I know this post is such a disappointment for your essence but I remember how much we laughed that day. And for the coming months remembering that day. And I remember your big eyes and pretty dimples and sharp features. And I see them on my social media every other day. I double tap but no number of taps will ever take us back to that school day.
We did finally get the pieces of wood and we completely ruined it later in class but it didn’t matter one bit like most things never truly do in the end anyway.