It was 2:34 in the night and the very hour that my mind and pen seemed to try to win a championship against what forces, I myself did not know, in the year of 2022. It was the time which always made me contemplative. However, the food for thought that day was nothing but the school magazine. Years after that period of bliss, it was common to think how little the troubles of that self of mine was. I blamed it on my growth of consciousness. But suddenly I saw a picture which reminded me of how the entirety or rather just a bit of it was bliss for me. Vivid pictures of that boy making the entirety of me a joke whenever he got the opportunity rose before my eyes. At that time, he was simply my enemy. But then, maybe because of the unavoidable growth of my sensitivity, I thought of him as the one who destroyed my teenage years. I remembered him. He was a simple boy without any complications, with a cheerful attitude, ready to make almost any person smile he saw was grumpy around him and a student who excelled at science and was only concerned about digits and the alphabet associated with it, sometimes. And I pictured myself as a silent student of focus - silent to the extent that some people saw it as pride; who felt uncomfortable among others, who was ready to listen but unable to answer to complex emotions but who had been known as a ‘poet', within school. I got hot flashes as I thought about him making a joke of me before everyone, every single opportunity he used to get. Being the popular person, they were also inclined to laugh, even if they didn't want to. Some of them; or at least one of them, perhaps, didn't. Yes, she became the person I became close with, later. And I thought of how the cheerful girl whose laughter I loved, grew silent with the heaviness, perhaps, of my love. He was a cheerful guy but also having a temper. Whereas being a student equal to him, I was usually silent and made up a very unapproachable countenance. It was natural to me at that time. Gradually I got left out. But then that I thought about it, it was I who moved away from where he was present. I smiled as the picture of two students in severe tension in the examination hall, rose before my eyes. He was struggling with the literature and I with the math. We both helped each other (though being at considerable risk and though never having done something like that before) and left the hall without even looking at each other again. For the last time before our careers drew every one of us away. But as people came into my life after that and left perhaps because of my own fault, I learnt one thing and it was never too late. I learnt to return smiles despite knowing that few truly deserve what you are willing to give, that they might simply come - to leave a lesson. But though I could no longer call him a foe, I remained undecided whether to embrace him in my mind as a friend. How does it feel to find out that some adversary from your past has always held the key to what made you think of him so? And that he holds the key to the problems you felt till this day?