It's hard to forget someone. During the school term its easy to drown yourself in studies, hobbies and good books. During the term it is okay. You have nights of sadness. Nights of tears. But everything is okay. In between those terms, when everyone else is glad for a break, you love it too. But there comes a time when books don't interest you, you've seen all the shows, you've done everything, and your friends just make you feel worse about it. You find yourself thinking about them everywhere you go, wondering if you will see them there. During the breaks, you have no more distractions. The lonely nights are sad and sleepless. You are so tired, but you have no choice but to succumb to the memories flooding your head.
You remember the first time they showed interest in you, picturing the cream walls with the English cartoon posters on them, breaking the monotonous colour with patches of neon , and the desks spread not far away from you, filled with now faceless students. You remember the words they whispered quietly, and your wordless answer. You remember the awkward silence, which was, back then, quite comfortable for you, unaware of the mistake you made that would create all this. You begin to mentally kick yourself for being so thick that you didn't realise what was truly said until years later, when it was too late, and you feel like you will never find someone that special. That understanding.
You flick to the next greatest moment. You picture the brown brick walls with the same neon cartoon posters, just a year older, and the exact position of them proportionate to you ( left, two desks diagonal in front). You remember what you wrote down on that stupid piece of paper, which still, to this day, sits in a drawer or maybe in the bin if you got that far. You remember their face, the mount of poorly controlled laughter that pours out of their mouth when you finally get it to them. You remember how you felt, the heat all over your face when you see what's written back. You remember the questioning glances from others, and the playful smirk crossed with a small, happy laugh you get from them when they see your face. The laugh you emmit from the memories carries you onto the next one. The same classroom, and barely even a memory, you see them fighting with the teacher, and the amusement trying to cover the worry you felt was as barely there as the memory itself. The chatter you heard afterwards was blurry after a year of life, but you still remember sticking up for him when you were asked about it, and the attempted effortless concern given to them afterwards. you kick yourself for that memory too, although not for the same reasons. You kick yourself for the very remembrance of that pointless memory, and continue on to the next one.
Unlike the others, this one was not in an English classroom, and this one is not sad. It is rather pointless, but it's there. This one is in a Maths classroom, with white bricks and navy pin boards and a teacher with a thick, French accent. He was handing out Mathletics booklets that you both hate, but do anyway, when you opened your laptop. they ask you about the character on the home screen, and you scream "SOUL EATER" across the teacher as he hands it to you. They crack up laughing, but the teacher looked like you had just swore at each other from a mile away. You still smile at that one, but then along comes one that haunts you at all hours of the day.
Unlike the others, this one isn't set in a certain class, or in any certain place at all. All you remember is that you two were always in the same classes, even the electives. They were always in front of you, on your left side, or both. You both always got exactly the same marks. Every time. It was one thing that you always relied on. The fact that you were never alone. You always had someone to talk to, to be comforted by, to rejoice with; or even just to say stuff it or punch something with. Even if you didn't speak about it, you didn't need to. You could just look at them and feel better. But that's gone, and in it's place are strangers who are still as nameless as the day you got there. It's all gone, washed away by the wind, never to be seen again. Sometimes you get excited at the knock of the classroom door, wishing for it to be them, already planning how they would sit next to you, and if they would reject you for hugging them beyond breath. Sometimes you spend all day dreaming of them coming for you, and then it wouldn't matter if you never knew the names of your classmates because you two would be together to help each other and that is all that really matters.
This brings us to the last memory, a train coming to its last pointless stop to another ghost town no one knows about. After school, especially in the last six months of your stay, they pass by you, sometimes waving, smiling, or nothing at all is given, but on the rare days they stop to say goodbye and have a conversation, you cannot help but smile, even when you answer the constantly repeated question, 'how did you find the test' with the same answer of, 'I probably failed', and they joke that you seem really happy to have failed, so you say that you no longer care, but you do. You really do, you just need an excuse so you don't say 'I'm happy because I spoke to you more than usual today and I really like your presence' because that would be embarrassing. It would be like breaking some sort of rule.
You constantly dream about going back to that spot and telling them how you feel and how much they mean to you, and how they are the only ones who deal with the mood swings and the anger and the constant need for reassurance and your constant crying and your many personalities and your REALLY bad mood swings and has your sense of humour and laughs and is happy, but is totally fine if you don't talk for days and doesn't care what you do to them and doesn't judge you and just makes you feel so happy that you want to cry but you are not allowed to date yet so they wait and then your relationship is really great and strong but it might not last but that's okay because you gave it a shot or maybe it does last and that's great but they are gone now and no longer have feelings for you and you are left here, alienated, but still hanging on to memories but not any more because you let go and now you are free and everything is good and you can move on. Sure, it will take time but soon the past will pass and everything will be okay because you might find someone else and never meet them again but you will still be happy as you are, even though it wasn't easy at first. You will be strong, and these nights will not be your last. Hang on. You can go to sleep now, because you know that whoever it is will probably never see you again, and life goes on, never going back, never ending until the day you die.
THE END.
