Yearning To Be

Red is hatred

I can still recall her in her silk skirt and blouse. They were purple with a gold border. She always had minimal makeup on. But back then, I could not care less about her. Those days she came to my house often to play or for other ceremonies.

I hated her.

She was a tattle tale. Considering the fact that all the things that I did were barely by the book, it highly irritated me with her goody-goody persona.

Because she was just a couple of years younger than me, we were always grouped together during games. I did not like that because she was a bad player (in every single game) and I would lose every game. Even when we played hide and seek, she cried every time she lost and refused to be the den (seeker). Ultimately, one of us would have to take the turn instead. That was so unfair and it always angered me the way she manipulated us like that. To avenge that, i always cheated and made sure she takes her turn repetitively.

This was when we were kids, but now?

I looked outside my window and caught a glimpse of her getting ready. She was probably going to college.

It was surprising, the way we stopped hating on each other.

The way we stopped talking.