Elementary Sweetheart (Part 5 – end)

Previously on Elementary Sweetheart:
I was in elementary school. Me and this boy had mutual feelings but he never had the courage to tell me in my face.
When he did, I rejected him, not nicely.
We ended up having an awkward friendship, due to the distance that separate us both.


Until we met again in February (how awkward, in the ‘month of love’), 2011.

Not seeing each other for nine years surely raised an awkward moment between us. But we managed.
On the contrary with our history (us being shy and all), we talked almost endlessly and very openly.
Well, as endless and as open as we could be in a little over than two hours.

To me, he did not look that different, after all.
Still a cute, charming, skinny boy that I liked.
His grin was still as annoying as ever.
His laugh still made me smile.
Our handshake lasted for what it felt like forever.
The sparks were still there.

Or at least that was how I felt.

God knows what was inside his head (or better yet, inside his heart), but judging by the never-ending handshake (or hand-holding, more or less), I’m guessing he felt the same way.

So, that was the story of my elementary sweetheart.

I would not say there are some unresolved feelings between us (because there are not), it was just simply a nice remembrance of our cute little puppy love.
I gathered that history rhymes with chemistry, if you know what I’m saying (which you maybe don’t).

The point is: I may not have any high school sweetheart to be proud about, but this little elementary school crush was acceptable enough.

And as I would not see him anytime soon (like not even in the next five years), I think I deserve the right to wonder about him, my elementary sweetheart.

By the way, I kinda asked his permission to published this story.
But as I wrote earlier, we don’t really contact each other when we don’t actually see each other.
He basically said nothing back, which I assumed (positively) that he was okay with it.
And I am, indeed, ignoring the fact that maybe the reason he was ignoring my message because he didn’t care. About ‘our history’ or about this story being published.
Either way, I have nothing to lose.
I never mentioned his name, anyway. Therefore, he has nothing to be ashamed of.

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