Remember your late teenage years? Those awful, awkward times, when we didn't know what to do and where to go. During the course we learned that it was not meant to be. Are we not glad it was over. I know I am.
There was a stretch of time when I felt stung with shame whenever I remembered you.
But lately I have straightened my back and realized it was not that much of a failure.
I looked around and saw the fancies of adolescents these days, and recalled how different your likings were. Instead of succumbing to the ridiculous pop culture, you differentiated (non-classical) performers for their art. Instead of worshipping seemingly innocent pretty faces, you went for Victoria's Secret angels and things your mother had better not see. You introduced me to artists before they became mainstream.
In short, the person whom I fell for was not just a boy. You were already a man, budding as you were.
The past now justifies itself. You were not a clever choice, but it wasn't that bad after all.
