He was the kind of guy I made countless memories with. Memories I will cherish for the rest of my life. Memories that were, but are no more.
He was the kind of guy who talked to me in ELA, who gave me pens, even though he bit them, and took apart mine for fun. Th kind of guy who clapped when I read my essays aloud, gave me 2/2s on all my short responses, and asked me to edit his STEM assignments. The kind of guy who made eye contact with me when I walked into the room in math, went through me pencil case when he thought I wasn’t looking, and graded my work when he finished early. The kind of guy who called me by name, said hi when we passed each other in the hallways, and walked down the aisle with me at the Honors Society ceremony. The kind of guy who asked me questions about commas, blamed me for incorrect answers, and told the teacher I didn’t know what a “premonition” was. The kind of guy who’s face turned red easily when we were shipped, played with fidget cubes, and whistled nonchalantly. The kind of guy who got hundreds on all his tests, competed with his best friend, and hi-fived me when I was elimated in the spelling bee and he won by spelling “abstain” correctly. The kind of guy who asked me how I sprained me finger, moved his seat to sit next to me, and laughed when I did. The kind of guy who ate yogurt during lunch, cursed a bit more than necessary, and made fun of his friend for having acne. The kind of guy who read books during lunch, walked around the school with a pink backpack, didn’t know that Copenhagen was the capital of Denmark, and wore three sweatshirts to school, alternating between them each day. The kind of guy who I fell for, and was sure he felt the same toward me. The kind of guy who I never thought would have rejected me.
Sometimes in life, we must admit that we were wrong.