Time seemed to slow
as I turned through pages upon pages
of the archives,
in search of one small clue
that might lead me to understanding.
I found my middle school yearbook
hidden among all those scattered papers
and flipped through it.
There was Gary, grinning as usual,
his hair discombobulated.
And my ex-crush,
unsmiling and somber.
Even Lindsey was there,
long earrings hanging halfway down her neck,
eyes caught in mid-blink.
We did not look that different at all.
My elementary school yearbook
lay in a corner collecting dust,
but I did not pick it up
because I had realized.