I Didn’t Mean to Think of You Today, Sophia Chen ‘24

i didn’t mean to think of you today, but i did

i was in the drive-thru of some fast-food place nothing special, same as usual but the car in front of me was a bright neon lime green and it reminded me of the hat you had on when we first met back in college on the subway you were laughing and everyone else was gawking at you and your long curls and your gleaming skin and your bright clothes and i thought, i want to be her friend

because you were the exciting foreignity of a new delicacy and you were the gem in the apex of the crown and you were the thrill of anticipation at the top of a rollercoaster extraordinarily fantastic

when i walked up to you you greeted me like an old friend and the sound of your voice was the fizz of bubbles in a carbonated drink and the whirr of a hummingbird’s wings

i got home today clutching my bag of food wounded by past regrets and i saw someone walk by with white sneakers that reminded me of the pair i bought when i didn’t realize that the rainbow ones were the trend

i wanted to buy a new pair but you told me we’ll fill in the colors together

you were always like that, you know diving in headfirst while i’m still double-checking the life jacket

your enthusiasm was the flood that washed away my insecurities your smile was the pied piper of leading away doubt and you loved to ask me what’s the worst that could happen? even though we both knew the answer

i found today the album we made in junior year with that one song where we both sang the wrong note at the same time and i wanted to re-do it but you said, let’s keep it and you were right because that is the only song i still know all the words to

there were bad days, too days where being around you was like being deep underwater hardly seen and barely heard

days where i wasn’t sure if i deserved to be your friend because i was colorless compared to your rainbow

but you could wave away any worries with your expressive eyes and your loud actions and pull me out of my reverie and back into the present like a wave carrying a surfboard back to the beach

you were a cool sip of water in the desert whenever i ran dry

that reflected off the light of microscopes and collected like sand in an African desert

and you would tell me to join you but you were born to stray from the path and i was not

you were too wild for my predictable life and i was too tame for yours

you were fireworks, an explosion of light: beautiful, fascinating, but ultimately unattainable and impermanent

i don’t know who stopped calling first all i know is that one day i realized i had not heard from you in six months those months turned into years and those years turned into gaps that my memory can’t be bothered to fill in lifeless as it is compared to your vivacity bleak as it is compared to you

and i would send you an email but the same fear that held me back from joining you is the same one keeping this from reaching you so i just wanted you to know that i hope you’re doing well and that

i didn’t mean to think of you today but i am glad that i did

Sophia Chen ‘24