Underage Thinking.

This post is not about Teddy Geiger's album (though I love it).

I have a story to tell. Of when I was 14 years old.

So. I was 14 years old and I was in P.E. class. I was listening to the discman (good old times), and it was playing Backstreet Boys (yes, I like them. Haha, I'm not crazy about them, but I like them). Then it was my time to play. So I left it on the bench. And some boys of my class started listening and making fun of it (note: I didn't get offended. I never get offended. Especially like that. I like boys and how they make fun of nothing. Just saying). Then it was over and I went looking for the discman. And it was nowhere to be seen. So I panicked.

First, because it wasn't mine. And second, because the boys who had it weren't really my friends. I was kinda scared of them. Not scared, but scared, yeah. Haha. So I went to the one I was least scared of and asked him about it. He said this other guy had it. And I was definitely scared of that guy. But what choice did I have ?

So I went up to him. And I was walking on freaking eggshells, expecting him to tell me to go to hell. Expecting him to have left it anywhere and not even know where it was. I was expecting him to be rude, to treat me like I was stupid.

He treated me so nicely, he was so kind, that I spent the next year and a half in love with him. He told he had taken it to the Lost and Found. And, instead of just saying that, he went there with me to make sure I'd get it. And he even talked to me about music. He didn't treat me like I was stupid for liking that kind of music. He asked me what I liked, he answered, he really talked.

I was amazed. And after that, day after day, I watched him. I watched how he behaved, how he reacted to things, what he said. And I fell in love with him harder and harder each day. He was so kind, so smart, so different. Until one day I was sitting with my best friend at the door to our school, and about eight guys passed by us. He was one of them. And all of them were our friends. But he was the only one to say goodbye to us. And she turned to me and said, 'He's such a nice guy, isn't he ? None of the others even noticed us'.

After that I told her I was crazy about him.

Thinking about this whole story now makes me remember the feeling of liking him. It was a great year just for that. Just for liking him. Now I wish I had had the guts to act on it. Not that I'd ever have a chance, but still. I kinda did act on it eventually, but it was too late anyway. It still was a good year. It was a great feeling. And he never let me down. He was always such a good person.

Last year he came talk to me out of nowhere. It was great. Since then we talk once in a while.

The thing is, he's still very important to me. Very. And I care about him deeply. I haven't seen him in years, really years. And it was his birthday this 13th. And I forgot. I forgot because I was too busy not doing anything all day (which means, I was busy with college, German class and gym, from 7h30 am to 9h30 pm). But it's no excuse. He matters too much to be forgotten. So this is my redemption. I'm here, trying to prove that I care. I care enough that I remember the first day I talked to him. And I remember the feeling. And I miss it. And I'd go back in time just to have another chance of telling him how I felt. I'd go back in time this week too, just to have a chance of telling him how much I admire him. But I guess it's too late.

I just hope this makes up for it. If not, then I'll be willing to do anything to make up for it. Like, really.

L.