I remember the first time I ever saw you. It was in senior year of high school. We had gone to the district math UIL competition and competed in the mathematics section together. Your pride and joy was and always will be the calculator competition, though :) Anyway, I remember sitting towards the middle of the room, and then I saw you walk in. You had on the white UIL polo shirt with the red collar, and you had a buzz cut. I remember thinking that you were cute. I was shy, though, so I would steal glances at you. I also remember when the teacher took role before the test began, I heard your name, and I thought, that's a good name. It was uncommon, yet strong and in a way, elegant. That name is etched in my memory forever.
When the contest was over, we were waiting for the results in the cafeteria. I remember seeing you stand there talking with your teammates while I tried to talk to some people from my school. I kept glancing at you, and sometimes, I thought you glanced at me, too, from the corner of your eye. The results came out, and I found out that I qualified for regionals, and so did your team. Even though I left right after that, I believed, or least I hoped, that we would see each other again at regionals.
From there, we did see each other again at regionals, met again at a recognition luncheon, and found ourselves at the same college. The paths we took in life may have been taken by other people as well, but I never noticed anyone else. My heart beat faster whenever you messaged me, and I was always nervous when I replied, wondering what you thought. Seeing you made my days brighter, and when I didn't see you, I longed for the next time that I would. Oh, first love, it's a beautiful thing.
As for the last time I saw you, it was last night. Towards the end of the night, I ran into a friend who said he/she had seen you downtown. When the bars closed, I stood outside waiting for some friends, half engaged in conversation, half keeping an eye out for you. I don't know why we do that...look around for an ex when we know that we won't talk to them. I guess it's more of a defense mechanism to not be caught off guard and look shocked if you happen to find yourself face-to-face with them.
As my friends and I were walking towards the parking garage, I saw your friend W first, then you and her. You had on a bright blue V-neck t-shirt. Your style has changed over the past year. It seems that you're happier. That you have everything that you want. My roommate is one of the best girls I know. She listened to my thoughts when we came home, and she asked me, "Why do you make it seem like his darkest days were with you?" It's probably because the break-up were some of the darkest days in my life for me, and also because you look happier now. Then, she said, "You're not giving yourself enough credit. You're like the match that lit his candle; it's just now, someone else is taking care of that flame. You did make his world brighter."
Our paths keep crossing, and after each time, I wonder, is that the last? I never feel that it is, though. Even when I say that I'd rather not see you again, I still see you in my future...I don't know what roles we're supposed to play in each others' lives; all I know is that our paths are intertwined in a way that hopefully yields a beautiful design at the end of it all.
