My friend and I made a quick visit to the mall. We both saw a familiar restaurant, a place which made us say out loud, “When was the last time you ate here?”
And I said, “Hmm, 10 or 15 years ago …”
He said, let’s eat here after we are done.
While we have separate memories, we ordered the same — pasta and pizza because that’s what this restaurant is known for.
Everyone knows what’s good here, the pizza.
As soon as we were seated, my friend tells me of his memories of this restaurant and how he and his friends would always end up eating pizza here after their movie date on weekends.
I also told him of my memory of this place. Mine is different. It reminds me of a boy from the past.
I wouldn’t say the one that got away, but the one who will always have a soft spot in my heart.
And he began to tease me about him because he knows who I am talking about.
You all remember the movie. The movie I first fell in love with Julia Roberts as an actress, “Mystic Pizza.” Besides, when I was younger, I love eating pizza.
And today, while eating with my best friend, my mind wanders off from the time I was with this boy.
We used to laugh at this very place, we used to lock eyes as we speak, neither one of us had the courage to take it to the next level.
“We were both afraid.”
There was a look of disappointment on my friend’s face when we were eating, and I asked why?
He goes on, “It isn’t the way I remember it. The food tastes different.”
I had to agree, the pizza wasn’t the same, and one would think how I can say that when a pizza is a pizza, right?
Both of us come off disappointed for different reasons.
My friend’s disappointment comes from the taste of the food, while mine comes from the memory of not being with someone anymore.
There was a quiet moment as we finished our food, and we went home.
I learned today that there are memories better left where they are — in the past.
To the boy who I remembered, he is long gone. It was a time in our lives when we didn’t know what we were feeling.
We chose to be afraid rather than be honest and brave.
“I ended up hurt. ”
I am trying not to focus on the new memory of the pizza place, and I have made peace with the old memory of me, the boy, and our own “mystic pizza.”
As in the movie, in my mind, I am watching the water from the restaurant’s balcony, reminiscing about our time together.
The similarity ends here because I don’t want to look beyond what is here, what is now.
For the future, I will let it surprise me, as life always make it right in the end.
This post was previously published on medium.com.
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