One Morning
One morning, I came back to the house where I first met the boy who changed something in me forever. I bet he’s a man now; more mature in many ways I can think of. It’s okay to talk about it, really. Everything about us is in the past, after all. What are left now are just memories.
It’s funny to think that as we grew apart, moved on separately with our lives, the house moved on as well. The paint on the walls changed. The garden has fewer ornaments. The orchids are gone. Most of the grass already dried up. It was quieter. It’s the same house, but it’s not the same feeling anymore.
Nostalgia engulfed me. I smiled because I was glad to be back. But my tears almost fell down as a surge of familiar corners, voices and faces kept flashing on my mind. Why there is a certain pang in my heart every time I think of him will always be an enigma to me.
That morning, I realized that the cliché is true. The only permanent thing in this world is change. That house has changed so much ever since I last visited it six years ago…So did I. And I’m pretty sure, so did he.
It’s funny to think that as we grew apart, moved on separately with our lives, the house moved on as well. The paint on the walls changed. The garden has fewer ornaments. The orchids are gone. Most of the grass already dried up. It was quieter. It’s the same house, but it’s not the same feeling anymore.
Nostalgia engulfed me. I smiled because I was glad to be back. But my tears almost fell down as a surge of familiar corners, voices and faces kept flashing on my mind. Why there is a certain pang in my heart every time I think of him will always be an enigma to me.
That morning, I realized that the cliché is true. The only permanent thing in this world is change. That house has changed so much ever since I last visited it six years ago…So did I. And I’m pretty sure, so did he.