Thirty-somethings are in a plague of the past

Funny how when she looks at you, you seem to age a little more

High school loves tend to do that

They stay forever young and tormented, like Dorian Gray

Yet you age like the rest of the world

She's outgrown this ghost town like an old t-shirt

She probably keeps it in the bottom drawer of her memories, too sentimental to throw it away

She's worldly, not in the way glamorous people are, but in the way college kids are

You move an hour away and suddenly you feel as though you know the world

That's the essence she exudes, like a precocious child

Even as she plants a kiss on your cheek and promises to spend the week catching up

You know it will probably be the last time you see her

You've already settled down... three kids, a mortgage, and a wife with lovehandles

She hasn't setlled down in the least

And, even though you would love nothing more than to run off with her

You are too complacent and too afraid, too old for the thrill

Her tenderness can only sit on a lost shelf to be later forgotten

You know your pleas to stay for another drink fall on deaf ears

She's already got keys in her hands as she pretends to consider the offer

And, in the middle of your own drunkeness, you kiss her on the lips

It's familiar, yet new, and you seem to lose track of where you are

She breaks it off abruptly and pretends it never happens

You wonder if she still has your class ring from all those years ago

And as she walks out the door, you can feel your youth being completely demolished

But... high school loves tend to do that