reminders.

I saw your car today, the old white hi-ace with paint chipping off the sides, and I realized I only really have one good memory of you.

You asked me if we could walk to the train station together. It was beginning to rain. You were the boy who didn’t take off his headphones and I was the girl who wore too many bracelets and we had nothing to talk about (not the weather, no) so we talked about Physics. I nodded as you explained the nature of gravity and you must have thought I was dumb. We quickened our pace, our Physics textbooks jumping in our bags.

You took out your umbrella midway. We huddled close and almost ran, and you made me take the only empty seat in the train. Your stop was ahead and I still had two stations to go so I waved a casual bye, took out the textbook, and you walked out. But then you came running back into the train, your shadow falling over a page, and you handed me your umbrella.

I do not know where those four years went. When I think of college I don’t think of you. One day, I left your umbrella some place and didn’t notice I no longer had it.

---from http://wordswidenight.tumblr.com


I posted this just because it mentioned train stations, umbrella, rain, headphones, bracelets, and college in one post.
All the things that once we were a part of