nonfiction

retrospective me

in 2nd grade somebody pulled my hair and I had to apologize for disrupting the class with my scream. I didn’t think anything of this until one day my heart almost exploded for somebody and I was left apologizing for the mess I made. I think that was in a 11th grade, but who wants to keep track of apologies? in 6th grade a boy I liked showed up at my front door holding a cup of my favorite ice cream and I could’ve invited him in but instead I slammed the door in his face and felt so overwhelmed with kindness that I threw a perfectly good chocolate fudge sundae into the trash can. when he called me later that I night I told him it was delicious and not to tell anybody that we talk on the phone because it felt too old for me. this boy was in my geometry class some years later and never bothered to look at me so I never bothered to look at him. all the while, I was becoming someone’s secret. at the time, some people thought being seen with me wasn’t worth the trouble. I didn’t think anything of this until lyrics were written into a notebook about goodbyes and yet, nothing was done to mend my frustration. my train ride of emotions came to a sudden halt when I was 18 and I took it out on people and illegal substances at 99lbs with no map. I was last in the group to lose my virginity to a friend. I didn’t think anything of this until I went to college and I was surrounded by people who claimed their first times to be like fireworks. ‘fireworks?’ I thought, ‘and where are those people now?’ the person you used to cry over and lit a fire inside of you once upon a time… you guys don’t talk anymore, do you? the fire is bound to go out someday. and then you are going to pass it on to someone else and claim ‘you are the most I’ve ever loved anyone’ but your high school self would’ve slapped you in the face because what about the fireworks? at 24 years old, I have managed to dodge any resemblance to this. maybe I’m missing out but maybe passing on love after love just sounds exhausting to me. my makeup is already smudged and my hair is already tangled and throughout all these years I still don’t think I feel things properly. I didn’t think anything of this until I was left keeping track of apologies.

xox, Kait

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