I thought I had long since let go of that youthful romance.
But today, when I saw Locke again, all those painful memories resurfaced.
Those memories haven't blurred despite the passage of ten years.
Now I realize that it wasn't him I hated, but the pain of not being able to stand up to my family when I was young. My reaction back then was just the result of a sensitive, insecure teenage pride.
I couldn't bring myself to say the apology I owed him. As he turned and walked away, only the bitter scent of smoke lingered in the air.
When I returned to the private room, I was in a low mood.
I sat in a corner, drank a few too many without realizing it, and then lost consciousness.
That was where my memory ended. What happened last night slowly became clear in my mind.
I must have, under the influence of alcohol and with the excuse of apologizing, spent the night with Locke.
After I got home, I immediately left the class group chat and blocked all my middle school classmates.
Although I'm not so vain as to think Locke would cling to me and demand I take responsibility, I still felt a bit nervous.
