Sometimes I’m just not feelin’ it. So I throw on a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt. And on those days I go back to the 90’s and elementary school and that boy in grade eight who was so cool with his careless and artfully tossed on plaid shirt, and I was the seventh grader just wishing for him to look at me.
It’s not a painful memory because potential crushes in the innocence of youth have so much hope and optimism in them. It’s actually quite comforting to remember the silly ways I tried to get him to notice me. And I laugh.