In my observation, it’s comforting to know some things never change, despite the fact that everything around us changes every day.

As I write this, I reflect on a feeling that’s as old as my own self. I can’t remember exactly the first time I felt it, but I know it’s been there for decades. I’ve often wondered if it still exists in reality, or if it’s simply a memory in my mind that keeps my heart pumping with just a little more flitter than I’ve ever felt.

For a memory to feel this real, something magical existed at one time. To this day, the surge that goes through my body at the simple remembrance of some of those times sends shockwaves through my skin.

The chemistry.

That absolute, unadulterated, unfiltered chemistry.

The kind of chemistry you can’t buy in a bottle and they certainly don’t teach it in any class.

There was a time when I was a kid—long before I knew where life would take me—when certain thoughts would create untold excitement. The feelings were for me to have, and no one else.

As time went on, we learned to test the boundaries. We’d sneak off to hang out, innocently enough, but there was always something there. Something fun. Exciting. Energizing.

There were times, as I got older, when I would awkwardly attempt to engage in conversation. I had my share of fails, but as I grew into myself, I began to enjoy the game. I’d look for ways to create situations in which my banter would challenge the possibilities of something more. To tempt the other body in the situation into wanting me back. To play cat and mouse. To try to be the catnip that drives a man crazy without ever actually saying or doing anything about it.

I never knew how situations would play out. As with the rest of life, little of the story was I able to write myself. It was a two-person show, but neither of us knew the other player’s script.

I sat back and observed. I created my own self. And, when I was lucky, I got to indulge in ridiculous amounts of chemistry that still make my heart beat to this day.

For the longest time, I looked forward to the random what-if encounters, never knowing if today’s destination might lead to one of those beloved memories. Sometimes, they did. Often, they did not. On those rare occasions when I was taken to the chemistry lab, however, my heart, mind, and body made a place for those feelings to live forever.

We’ve grown up and moved on. I’ve moved away, and we both have very different lives. I’ve often wondered how two people who were so connected fell so out of touch. The truth is, we’ll never be disconnected. We’re always there, residing just far enough out of reach to be in each other’s lives when needed. I take incredible comfort in this.

I recently became that awkward girl who can’t figure out how to speak again. I’d rehearsed my lines. I knew how to act like an adult. I was ready to put on my this-is-where-we’re-at-in-our-30s face and proceed like everybody else in the room. Despite my dedicated practice for days on end, I failed. The moment it was my time to show that I didn’t relish the excitement of our younger years, my brain backfired, my mouth ran itself, and I was 12 years old all over again.

For a thousand reasons, this is a conversation that will only exist with myself. The vagueries are easy enough for plenty of people to identify. This is simply my way of capitalizing on the chemistry I haven’t felt in so long, reliving the endless excitement of years gone by. I can’t believe that feeling still exists. I’m blessed to have a place in my heart that still flutters so fast that I can’t catch my breath.

Have you ever tried to stick two magnets together? They push each other apart with a force so powerful, it can’t be overcome. But, that’s not to say the electricity isn’t there. It just means those two magnets, as powerful as their attraction may be, have to be on opposite sides of the room in order to live the lives they live now.

I’d never want to go back to school for the classes. But I’d go back to the chemistry lab any day. I’m glad to say, nobody can take those memories away.