First Year, First Semester
Like everything in life, it starts unexpectedly. Hits you when you least expect it and all that jazz. One second you're fine, talking to him, laughing with him, walking to class with him. But the next second you realize how you've memorized the twang in his voice when he says your name, the way he crinkles his eyes when you tell him a joke, the ratio of his footsteps to yours and how you're always trying to keep up.
Then you finally admit to yourself, Maybe I can like him just a little bit. Even if he's supposedly just your friend. Even if you know this isn't going to end well.
The problem comes when you start acting weird around him, conscious of everything you say. This is when you two start drifting apart: he pursues another, and you're left watching from afar, harboring not just dangerous homicidal tendencies but also dangerous heartbreak tendencies. See, the key to not getting hurt is to not expect anything. You know that. And yet, you dive in headfirst.
Infamously dubbed "The Break of Moving On" to you and your friends, you focus all your energy on rebuilding yourself, as if recovering from a war. You're bent on opening your eyes to greater things. Only, he's the first person you see when you do, bumping into him at a mall on the first day of your break. Of all the places, of all the people, it had to be right there, and it had to be him.
If there's one thing you've learned from all this, it's how to act like you're okay when you're not. Really, you deserve an Oscar. But if there's one thing you should've learned, it's how to learn from your mistakes. Because there he is asking you out to lunch, and you ignore all the war flashbacks and say yes like a complete idiot.
It's a momentary slip that cost you your heart. How ready you are to fall into his arms. But when he doesn't catch you, you resolve never to fall again.
First Year, Second Semester
You're a new person, ready for greater things. But the universe is cruel: he's your seatmate on your first day back in school and your biggest fear is relapse. You question whether you're strong enough, but when he opens his mouth to talk to you, you remember how hard you hit the ground, and suddenly, you're unafraid.
You're back to the good old days, but this time, you don't notice his voice, or his eyes, or his footsteps. You can't believe how fast he can go from meaning the world to you to meaning nothing at all. And while you can't say you don't feel any resentment towards him, at least now you can look at him without feeling like you're slowly dying.
You can't believe how fast he can go from meaning the world to you to meaning nothing at all.
Yet, you still couldn't prove the universe wrong. Yes, you are unafraid. Definitely stronger now than you were when you first got here. But unfortunately, failing one test doesn't guarantee that you'll pass the others. While you've moved on from your seatmate on the right, what you're moving on to is your seatmate on the left. You are unapologetic, thinking that if you can recover from your ex-crush, you can recover from anything. Will you succeed this time? Probably not. But that's never stopped you before.