What Is Love?
Where does true love come from? But the story isn’t telling about that.
As a prestigious person, I can’t really show affection. That’s why I’m the worst at love. But if I tell you everything, it’s going to be long. So, let’s keep it short.
It all started when I fell in love with a boy in elementary school who became my first chairmate in grade 2. I also don’t know why I like him. Strangely, when someone said he also liked it, for some reason, I became ilfeel. And in the years of his night, between me, and he became awkward.
Time goes so fast. I finally graduated. There is an event that I can’t escape even though trying to be driven again. Create a farewell event, my teacher asked us in the class to appear as an event like the previous years, the farewell ritual and release of 6th-grade students. Later, each of us will be called in order to receive a medal and then take a stage.
The formation was simple. Short in the front row while the highest standing back. I was in the second row, paired with my other friends. I felt a little happy because this Doi stood in the front row.
But the excitement is just a moment. Because when my teacher checked our line again, he was like seeing irregularities because it wasn’t neat for the eye. The friend who became “my partner” was not high enough to stand next to me. He was moved and exchanged with others. Which is nothing but not is him. My friends are on the scene. I’m ashamed to don’t know what to do.
And in the end, I had to walk hand in hand with him to receive a graduation medal.
After that super awkward incident, we all split up to continue our respective education. I had to go to boarding school, and he moved house. We chatted on Instagram. Not through Direct Messages, but blaspheming each other in each comment column in our respective personal accounts.
Year after year passed. Somehow reportedly since my last comment on his personal account. We never contact each other again. I wanna not remember again because I have to focus on memorizing and learning. Unfortunately, this pandemic made all the memories reappear. Suddenly, he contacted me, this time not in the comments column as before. But through direct message. He greeted like a friend who never met like most people. Sentences like “How are you?”, “Where is your school?”, “What did you do lately?” And other stale subjects.
Well, the awkward moment repeated again. It turns out I’m just a mistress. But it’s okay. After all, I’m also bored and need friends to chat with more. I feel happy because I can talk again with him. Nostalgia is fun.
