Most nights I lay in bed and run through the day that has just passed by all too quickly, as they usually do. I think of everything, and all things. I think of things I should have said and shake them off, let out a breath, and turn on to my right side to watch TV until my inevitable deep sleep takes over.
Lately, most nights I think of you. If it’s a Monday or a Wednesday night I usually revert back to the walk that we take home together; me always asking the same questions and you always giving the same responses.
I think about when I might see you again. Now that you’ve moved it isn’t as frequent.
And today, I thought of you for most of the day. Which, with a little courage, ultimately led me to starting this blog.
I’ve been meaning to start some sort of diary for two years. Sometimes I wonder if I had written down my thoughts in the past years maybe I’d figure out how I ended up here. I would probably still wonder how my thoughts often drift to you.
Today there is more of an explanation. For the past week I’ve been thinking about how in a few days you will be gone. The past three years you’ve been such a close part of my life. The first year we were co-workers, the second year we shared a few intense make out sessions, and this year we took our friendship/relationship/weird thing that we are, for lack of so many better terms, to a new level. That drunken night coming back from New York City changed so much, even though I promised you it wouldn’t.
So I’m left wondering: Where did it begin? When did my truthful promise not to care turn into the biggest lie I’ve ever uttered to anyone?
And my best answer is May. May is when it all changed.
That night was an emotional one for you. You watched as so many of your friends walked around this campus as an undergrad for the last time. I can only imagine the sadness you felt as you realized that one semester separated you from feeling the euphoria.
While you were drowning your own emotions in alcohol, I was drinking to the graduates, and feeling grateful that we still would have a few months left together in the fall. But that night I was so confused, and there was no hiding it. As my own pride held hands with the alcohol in my system, I climbed the side of the building with Mel and felt on top of the world for the first time in the last few months.
Like a girl in the sixth grade, I had Mel dealing with all the issues that were between us. I wanted you, but there was Sean. I thought Sean was going to be good for me.
His slight southern accent coupled with his blue eyes turned my stomach into knots. The messages we exchanged, at practically the same time every day made me smile without fail. Sean was the guy I had been looking for.
Sean’s biggest flaw was his relationship with alcohol. He became angry and abrasive, and it led to the fight with Joe at formal, and ultimately to the beginning of the end of my friendship with Mel.
I was stubborn. Mel was so hurt by the fight and I chose to ignore her. I thought she blew everything up into a bigger deal than it was. I chose to listen to Sean, and I chose to keep seeing him. I was even more torn when he sent me a message saying he wanted to see me before I left for the summer.
Mel told me you wanted to talk to me. I was nervous. I didn’t know what you were going to say, but Mel told me that if I chose to see Sean then there was no chance you would have that talk with me.
So I took a chance on you and what you would say. And you gave me nothing. No talk, and no explanation of how you felt.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
I was hurt. Because before that there were the tears, which I cried for it seemed like the whole month of May, you tried to cease with a nighttime trip to the beach with all of our favorite friends.
When we got back here you asked me if we still needed to have that chat. I said no. I didn’t have anything I needed to talk about with you.
Maybe it was my pride, or maybe it was my nerves, or maybe it was a million other things that I just can’t understand now. I wish I had just said lets have that talk.