Normally I'd like to say that it was a dark stormy night when this all started, but the truth is that is was a warm and sunny day.
sitting the my soon to be old room, surrounded by all the boxes and pages that contained my old self. contained the memories and contained the love that made me what I am today. holding my old journal to my heart like it was a receiver with all my past sins in line. i could feel my breath hitch as i begin to read that memory of my 16 year old self.
the first page it self took me back to the good old summer breeze and the smell. Oh the smell. it was vivid. horrific even. the twisted smell of dead feelings that loaded my chest and tortured me day and night was back. it was back. and so was the memories of 2024 summer. and so was he. he was back at occupying my thoughts.
I promised I'd remember. I always thought i would. there was no way to forget him. no way to forget us. but now as i grow older the memories became vague. the faces began to fade and the words began to tremble. i write this because i want to remember, both the words and the faces. but what i did not forget after all this time was the rush. the absolute blood sickening rush that consumed me. the maddening feeling of being seen and the craze of being understood. oh how i remember it all.
everybody thought i loved him. i did. but everybody loved him. but was i 'in love' with me?
i loved him
i loved him
i loved him
but god sometime i fucking hated him.
YOU ARE READING
Sparks
Teen FictionAnaisha Chauhan, a 34 year old woman in Delhi looks back at her high school day as she is soon about to get married. Flipping through the pages of her old journal, she finds herself back in the soft breeze of the summer of 2024. As she reminisces ab...
