I Know I Like Him

Two years passed in the blink of an eye, time turning the page without a sound. So many people and things had long since faded away, and life had moved on to a new path. Yet every little detail of those high school years remained as vivid as if it had happened yesterday: cicadas chirring in the classroom, hot evening breezes, and empty streets after evening study. Every scene, every frame, remained clear in my mind.

My heart was full of memories and feelings, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't find anyone suitable to share them with. Those youthful worries no one understood, the confusion and perseverance I endured alone, the moments when I quietly changed and grew: they had all been bottled up for two whole years. With no one to listen and no way to find closure, I could only put pen to paper and write a story, setting down every long-buried memory and all the growth no one had ever witnessed.

Not to make a name for myself, and not to please anyone, but simply to give the once-naive, hard-working, courageous version of myself a proper ending.