Color of Nostalgia

Dazed I sat, the reds and pinks of the intricately decorated catering place/restaurant reflecting profoundly into my eyes. The gold, gilded borders gleamed dimly around the room, along the walls, and on the chairs. I sat with my elbows up on the table, my hands around my own neck, propping up my head. My feet were pounding slightly. It was the first day of the semester at work and we had to dress nicely, but I had already wore heels the night before.

Work was fun. There was nothing to do since it was the first day so I was remembering. Remembering, remembering, how we had synced DSs and raced each other in Mario Kart. Remembering, remembering, as I sat in the same room at the same table I sat at last fall. Remembering, remembering, I remembered how he sat across from me only a year before.

I grimaced slightly as my insides curled upon themselves. My mind slipped too far back. It had been a while since I thought of him.

That dark hair, that soft voice, I envisioned him sitting across from me once more, and it was hard to believe that he was gone, though I expected no less. College had taken him away, although ironically he is now physically closer to me than before.

Remembering, remembering, I remembered his solid stare, the way he would look into my eyes to speak, and the voice he used to speak would be ever so soft, but not meek. Remembering, remembering, I remembered his smile, a quick, little grin that formed when he chuckled slightly after the smallest things. Remembering, remembering, I remembered the manager's son, who would call for him every week, and the way they both smiled when he played games with the child and teased him.

I could feel my heart beating with my hands. I removed them from my neck though as the food arrived. The different aromas replaced the thoughts in the air, and I welcomed them.

He was a player, I remember that too, although finding out didn't hurt me since I believe he was a naturally kind and likeable person. I don't believe that all that kindness he showed me was an act, but because of that I can't say that he did all those things especially for me. Not that it matters anymore though, since I don't care.

I don't like him, although I can't honestly say that I never loved him before.