Remember that guy that wasn't any good for me? I called him my stereotypical, had-to-experience-it-eventually, bad boy. The one that had my mind in some sort of sugary coma, taking over my head and almost my heart.
Well, I saw him the other day.
It had been ages; I had nowhere to ever run into him at. We had little to nothing in common, besides our taste in music. So go figure that I'd run into him at a show, right before a band came on.
I was with a group of my friends, and it was the first time in a long time we were all able to coordinate doing something together. We were all dressed up and honestly I was feeling pretty good about myself. We walk in through the door, through the crowds of people, and then I see it.
He's sitting in a chair with his back to me, but I knew exactly who he was.
He hadn't changed a bit.
He glanced in my direction, saw me and honestly did the double take. He wasn't expecting to see me there; I wasn't expecting to see him there. Then he put his arm around this girl.
She was basically the hipster version of myself. You know, thicker glasses, longer hair, shorter legs. It was frightening to be honest.
He was wearing the same old leather jacket, the same old pained face, with always surprisingly youthful eyes.
It truly disgusted me.
I thought about how over a year ago my knees would have been weak. I would have ran up to him and hugged him and sniffed the scent of cigarettes and body odor. And I would have loved every second of it. But now...
I felt different. I felt above him. He had to do a double take to realize who I was. I had shorter hair, with a new color, a new style, different friends. My life was in motion. And to see him again was like it was just yesterday, it seemed like life had grabbed a hold of him and hit the pause button.
He still hasn't grown up.
To be honest, to see that made me feel good. I knew I had made a good decision. I sat there amongst my friends but my mind was wandering. If I had kept dragging him along, trying to do something with myself and with us there was no way I was going to be happy. It couldn't have been possible. He may have been the "irresistible" bad boy with enough swagger and charm for the both of us, but I got over it. And looking back, I'm glad I got out when I did.
I snapped out of it and looked back up at my friends. I joined the conversation again, and just like that, my life kept going with the motions. His however, stayed the same: a wandering eye and a crooked smile to boot.
photos via (we heart it)