I haven’t done this in some time.

I had quite a bit to drink this evening. It being St. Patrick’s Day, I had to celebrate because it had always been one of my favorite holidays growing up. In middle school, that’s pre-secondary school, it was the day we looked forward to pinching or being pinched by certain classmates. Usually, for my part, I remembered the green, but there were a few years I had to endure the “pinch” because I had forgotten to wear green that day. Tonight, I remembered how I loved this holiday, and how in my adolescence I crossed the threshold of personal space and expressed how I truly felt about a certain some one. There were different types of pinch, and yes they all hurt, but some more than others. One that particularly hurt was from H.S. Tonight, I looked at every face in the bar, and was hoping to see her. There was no particular reason or plan, and it was really a fool’s hope. I just felt that tinge of reverie, and when you dream of a moment for so long, you start seeing it everywhere. I should have pinched her harder when I had the chance. I still remember her pinch, but could she remember mine? Every St. Patty’s Day it’s all the same. I think of H.S and wonder, is tonight the night I run into her again? Because this time, she would be in for a hurt of a lifetime, and she won’t surely forget me. It’s only fair, she completely owns this holiday for me.