The First.

Dear Brian,

I was going through my stuff today, throwing away all the things I don’t need. Guess what? There was a picture of you, tucked away in a corner of my drawer, sheathed in plastic, almost forgotten.

And it was true. They say you never forget your first boyfriend. I think I almost did. I almost forgot what you looked like, the sound of your voice, and the way you made me feel the very first time we met. I almost forgot your cheekiness, your tenderness, how sweet you were when we were both together, even though most of the time we were miles apart.

I remembered how, I would sneak into the school’s computer lab in between lessons to chat with you on ICQ when you were away. I remembered the day you asked me to be your girlfriend. I remembered all the drama that went on in your life, and that caused mine to be a living nightmare. Almost.

As I took your picture out of the drawer and tossed it into the bin, I wondered if you were doing well. I wondered if you had found another, if you are already happily married with children, just as you planned to do by the time you were 26. I wondered where in the world you could be, back in Australia, or happily settled in Malaysia where you were when we broke up?

Most importantly, do you remember me, the way I remembered you?


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