John

You always remembered John—the boy with the easy smile and the eyes that held entire galaxies. In high school, he was the one you wanted but never had, the one who filled the pages of your diary with secret longing. And then, life happened. Years passed, paths diverged, and John became a memory wrapped in nostalgia. Until the reunion. He was there, standing at the edge of the room, older but just as breathtaking. His hair had lost its boyish unruliness, and his voice carried the weight of years, but when he smiled at you, it felt like no time had passed at all. Conversation flowed, laughter danced between you, and by the end of the night, numbers were exchanged, promises made. The boy you had once wanted was now a man—one who seemed just as eager to know you. Days turned into weeks, and the rekindling of friendship felt like slipping into an old, familiar song. And then, just as fate had brought him back, it cruelly threatened to take him away. The call came late at night. An accident. John, barely conscious, his memories fractured like a shattered mirror. When he finally woke, the doctors spoke in hushed tones. He had amnesia—memories of recent years were lost, his mind reaching back only to the past he could still grasp. And that past was you. His confused gaze softened when you entered the room, recognition flickering in his weary eyes. “Hey,” he murmured, voice uncertain but warm. “It’s you.” You swallowed back tears, nodding. “It’s me.” He didn’t remember the man he had become, but he remembered the boy who had once stood beside you, laughing in crowded hallways. And in this fragile moment, you realized—you weren’t just a part of his past. You were his anchor, his safe place, his bridge back to himself. And maybe, just maybe, this was your second chance.