When we met, it was only the introduction. You waved hell and I waved gently. If I couldn't forget that.
The coolness of winter in my room welcomed after my slumber. Though, it was in the beginning of January. The chilly air, easy to breathe in. Of 8:20.
Everyday thing for school. Wake up, get dressed, eat something, then walk out the door.
I'd admit that I'm always looking back. To sometimes would be my grandparents.
Long concrete sidewalks. The cloudy morning sky. Sometimes fog.
It's a beautiful scenery to enjoy as I walk down the street.
Earbuds in, phone out, and music blasting.
White fog clouding what's ahead of me. Feeling the mist on my face.
I had continued walking anyways.
Time wasn't too late for me to be late at school yet. But it had came down to the half-hour.
Standing on the steel lamp post, where I waited. The cars speed by to their destination.
I stood and waited for the who to come out.
My memory of it is clear as it happened every morning. I can feel the happiness of nostalgia run down my spine.
The time goes by. I could hardly hear how the bush shuffled.
Being able to wait for a friend was something I, more or less, could enjoy.
It was worth it as he walked over.
Little actions. Big impact. The heavenly feeling.
Conversations go a long way when time flies.
Words is all I had. The crispy sounds of the leaves are the tone of my voice.
Can I ever describe it? Could you walk slower?
Stepping closer to the front gates. And still I kept a hold of myself.
Speaking out loud for everyone to hear.
I hoped that people could hear.
We weren't the only people talking when the sun started to set.
Overjoyed and nostalgic. Those emotions override the far rides by the sidewalks.
My dreaded memory of being distinct at the start. The start of what I could call, the best months of my life.
Chattering away, teasing away, laughing away. It filled the air with warm ness. It kept us closer together, everyday.
From the front of the gates to the front of my door, could I wish that day can happen again.
Things have changed a lot. A whole lot.
Used to find each other, ride our bikes, walking, and to waving off goodbyes.
Now, even if this year ended. Our hold of this year couldn't disappear. I miss the times. I miss you. Let's walk again, shall we?