Retrospectacle – when something is better and brighter in retrospect than it was at the time.

At the time, you half-opened your eyes to snooze your alarm, saw a notification from him, got just excited enough to open the snap, saw a silhouette of him lying in bed not wanting to go to his 8 am, and went back to sleep for ten more minutes.

But oh, with retrospect.

This was before you had a streak together, so there was no obligation for him to send something as personal as a just-woke-up shot. That he was comfortable enough to send you a photo of him in bed – not all of him, but it was intimate and unguarded enough to embarrass you still – meant your friendship was developing soundly. And you'd never seen him within ten minutes of him waking up, unless you counted the times he fell asleep in class. There was a kind of beauty to that. A kind of trust.

But there was more to it than that.

Because he stopped snapchatting you twelve days into your streak, the day after he asked if you liked him. The day after you said yes and you both pretended things were fine and then forgot how to physically interact with one another.

So in retrospect, the real beauty of the moment was the childlike thrill of seeing the words "from Alexander Sun" displayed across the screen, the anticipation as it loaded, holding your breath so your excitement wouldn't burst out. The real beauty was the way you felt when he sent you a bleary, sleepy snapchat that you valued so much and yet not enough.

Haven't published in a while, but I have some old pieces lying around that I'll put up in the next few days.