Was I Ever Cute

Everything was better back then. Better colors, better TV, those afternoons in the neighborhood before anybody got careful. The games with kids you knew when touching was just touching, no meaning to it yet.

Saw an old photo someone posted—Caro’s, naturally—red hair, completely wasted, staring into the camera like she’d just invented confidence. And yeah, she was cute. I was cute too, I guess. Not performing it, not aware of it. Just there, unguarded.

Now everyone’s digging through boxes for proof they weren’t always like this. I get it. There’s something about the evidence, the before-picture. The chance to show yourself that you used to feel different. I’ve got photos somewhere too. Most I don’t think about. Some I can’t forget. The difference between those two is what doesn’t change.