So many years later, you made me smile. I hadn’t seen you in a very, very long time. You were part of my past and mostly still are, but those recent moments at a time when we were all reliving our past and reconnecting in our present, you were there being you. Your voice is the same, your smile is the same; your eyes light up with mischief and brings forth the laughter that signifies who you are . . . the same as they did before. And although I don’t think we ever truly knew each other well, seeing you and sharing fleeting moments in the present with you, reminded me of one of my first, significant times when I thought I was in love.

You were part of my journey, an important part. Kisses at a golf course, awkward glances across a gymnasium, classroom or hallway; flower leis placed around your neck at the end of high school football games; a birthday cake and a car ride; tipsy moments at high school dances, balls and banquets. Ah, to be young and infatuated with a boy who sometimes seemed as awkward and unsure as I was feeling about us. My journal reminds me so much about our moments, or more so about those moments that I wanted there to be an actual “us” that lasted longer than just a moment. But there never truly was, and that’s okay, because that is who we were.

You made me smile though, or at least the thought and hope of “you and me” did, and for that I am thankful. Thank you for the smiles, both then and now. Thank you now for the open arms and warm hug that brought me in, and for a split second took me back to then; that time when my heart was on an important journey . . . and you were the boy of my affections.