|
Love Stories @ RomanceClass - x “People think it’s a sin, to know or feel too much within.” -Bob Dylan There are moments still when I cannot seem to misplace you. It’s odd how years really mean nothing when memories are involved. Every time I tell the story the weeks later seem to haunt me. I suppose there will be a time when I won’t remember it anymore, and perhaps then I will allow your ghost to lay to rest. I’ve always had this ability to write things out of me. God knows I have piles of notebooks devoted to the exorcism of your taste on my lips. I still find letters, even now, that I never sent you. But even without a trace of you to the unknowing eye, your scent can be found. So now is my attempt to write you. In my bias, and one-sided head. My purpose is to somehow solve the puzzle as to why your ghost will not lay down to rest. I apologize for how untrue this story may be. Understand that it’s been years since I’ve heard your voice, seen your face, what not. And a lot happens in years between people. And time and distance warps the truth. Not that I ever claim to really know what that ever was… “I read your letter. I’ve read it 5 times now. But I still don’t get it. All this shit about memories, and you and me, and the way it use to be. And how you half regret it, and how it feels so good to get it off your chest. I wish I never read it.” -onelinedrawing I met you in 1994. Drama class, I think it was 6th period , right after lunch. I can’t ever really recall you before this afternoon. I was sitting on my desk, and you walked up and stage kissed me. I don’t have any recollection as to why, or how, or when. I do know that after that it was all you in my head. You had a girlfriend. She didn’t go to our school. We hung out all the time. And I was so happy to spend any time with you. I don’t remember when you broke up with her. I don’t remember who asked whom out. I don’t think it really matters at all. You kissed me for the first time in front of the math building. It wasn’t the best kiss, but I was 14, what did I know? I fell in love with you over the desert fall. October sun hanging over a dry land. And I was so young and so stupid to know what was happening. You were funny, and trouble, and beautiful. I think now back on everything, and I imagine I was so naive about everything then. Ditching class and making out in your room, smoking pot, drinking, being stupid kids. But my life was so terrible at home. It was the only part of my world that was normal. Even if it were not the most normal of growing up. Most of these moments were shared with you, early on. We fought. Selfish, insecure, ignorant actions. High school is kind of a blur to me. I remember presidents day 1995, having sex in my bed. My mom came home early, and I threw you out my back door. I remember being so upset about breaking up, and feeling heart break for the first time. I remember leaving a nasty message on your father’s answering machine, and you waiting on my porch the next morning. I remember falling asleep on your shoulder and you would whisper things in my ear. I remember calls from Kinko’s when you would get grounded. Your mother hated me. But honestly, early on I don’t recall very much. I cheated on every boy with you. They paled in comparison. We had a lot of not talking to each other and fighting. Then we got older. And life got a little more like life, less like TV. We were friends. I’m not sure how good of friends we were. But I suppose I never really saw you as such a simple thing. You were living with your childhood friend. And going to school. I was dealing with life in my own way. My stepfather was an asshole, to say the least. There was this night, when he locked me out of the house. I must have been barely 17, maybe. I didn’t have a car or money or anything. It was kind of late. And back then you couldn’t really walk anywhere that late without it being a bit unsafe, as young as I was, and alone. I called you. And you came and got me. I think that was the first time that I really believed you loved me, and it didn’t really matter in what way. I stayed with you that night. It was the beginning of many nights that I stayed with your house. Lots of staying up late, and giggling. Talking about silly things because we were tied and high, drunk. And sex. We did have that down pretty well. And I adored you. But I was stupid and scared. And didn’t know how to keep you, or even if you wanted me at all. We lived our lives. And ran in different packs. But somehow always spent time together. Jesus I was so stupid then. You met a girl. We were driving. I drove you home in fact. You grabbed my hand, and asked me to promise to love you no matter what. And you really made me promise. You then told me about this girl, and how you had to try. But for some reason you needed me to tell you I’d love you no matter what. And I did love you regardless. We did our own things. But like always not too distant from each other. You fell in love with this girl. Or at least that’s how I remember it. There was this day however. We drank. We were drunk. At my moms house. Drunken conversations of love. Drunken sex in the hot tub in the backyard. Did you know the neighbors filmed it? Passed out in my old bedroom. You snuck out the next morning. We both were in relationships. But I never really cared about anyone else the way I cared for you. You decided to move. To go to school east. I know you had a going away party. I just couldn’t make myself go. I think a part of me was just afraid that you wouldn’t miss me the way I would miss you. We lost contact. And finally I found you. I posted a bulletin on your schools websites bulletin board. From then on we spoke often. Email, phone calls, whatnot. All my boyfriends hated you. And I told all of them they could never be you. And they couldn’t have. “I said maybe you’re going be the one who saves me after all. You’re my wonderwall.” -Oasis I met a boy. And I thought I was in love. I wrote you about it. And quickly I became completely caught up in him. I moved in with him. I still spoke to you all the time. Called, wrote, emailed. I was devout to my livejournal, although I don’t think you read it all that often, I wrote my entire life there. The boy cheated on me. In a grotesque amount, and I was devastated. I became depressed. I tired to kill myself. I sat at home and cried for weeks. I was in a bad place. Just like when I was a teenager, I called you, and you were there. I flew out to you in Portland, the first time I would see you in a few years. And I kept telling myself on the flight that things would be different between you and I, that there was too much change between the years and the distance. You couldn’t pick me up from the airport because you had to work. So my friend who lived in Seattle came and picked me up. You left the back door open to your house so I could leave all my stuff. There was a bottle of wine waiting for me on your bed. (My heart feels like it wants to explode while writing this, and I’m not sure why) My friend and I decide to go out and eat and drink and explore the city. We’re drunk, and we end up eating where you work. You leave the kitchen, and come talk to us, for a moment. I think. I was drunk, and my accuracy is most likely off. That night we met at bar. I drank rum and coke. The streets were wet, and it was cold. I thought your city was beautiful. And I felt the exact same way about you as I did when I was 14. Only that I understood it now. I accepted the fact that I would always love you. I stayed a little over a week with you. And you took care of me. You mended me, and you kept everything inside of me warm. I adored you. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted that moment to last forever. The last night I was there with you, I told you that I lost my virginity to you. Something I kept from you for years. Everything about you and your city and being there seemed so right. But the next day I had to get on the plane, back to this shitty town, with all the issues and bullshit I left behind. You drove me to the airport. When you took my bag out of the trunk of your car, you asked me to stay. This moment in my life will forever be a regret. I honestly hurt when I think of this moment. Because there is no other lead up to a perfect moment in my life like this one. And I failed. I failed the both of us. And although I have accepted this, I don’t believe I’ve ever forgiven myself for it. I told you I had my stuff here. You said we could get my stuff. I said I had my cat, you said we could get my cat. I walked into the airport, and I didn’t even kiss you goodbye. I cried the whole way home. And I don’t know what was wrong with me. I look back at this now, and still just ache. You were all I’ve ever wanted, and that moment was all I could ever ask for. But I got scared, and ran. And I’m so sorry for being so very wrong. “I wrote you a letter, I heard it just upset you. Why don’t you tell me, how can I make this better?” -Jawbreaker I wish I could say here that I got my shit together. That I came home and things were better. But that would be an outright lie. You came to visit home about a month after I left Portland. I was still living with the boy who cheated on me. I was doing more drugs then I should have been doing. And I was drunk all the time. We hung out one day that I recall. And I must have seemed a sad wreck. My life spiraled from there. But that’s another story. I began to hang out with a crowd that was into heavy drugs. And although I never shot up with them, or smoked horrible things, I did do way too much coke. I was a wreck, and still we kept in contact. I’ll never forget you called me one night, or maybe I called you? But you asked me why I sounded so strung out. I was honest. I was messed up, and had been for days. I surrounded myself with numb people who self medicated to dampen various issues from their own life. I think I thought I was having fun. But really all I wanted to do was run away from everything. You made me promise I would calm down with the drugs. Sweet Lucifer, I must have sounded horrible. I met a boy who wanted to go back to Portland. I wanted to go with him. I wanted to get back to you. I wanted to go back to that day where you drove me to the airport, and do it differently. But I was such a train wreck. I was so messed up on drugs. And I just didn’t want to really deal with anything. I got pregnant by this boy. I told my very catholic grandmother before I had the guts to tell you. And I still did it in a passive way, by writing you. You called, and I couldn’t answer. I listened to the message. And still you loved me. I’m not sure how, or even why. But once again, you were there. Things were horrible when I was pregnant. The father cheated on me, and had a bought of heroine binges from time to time. I didn’t always have food; I never had money, or a car at some points. My mother wouldn’t speak to me, and I felt so alone. But still you were there. There were nights I’d walk to my friend’s house and call you in tears, and although I was a complete wreck, and you had a girlfriend, you still said come up. But I just couldn’t do it. I think truthfully I knew you deserved much better. And I was such a mess. The last day I saw you would be the day after my daughter was born. I looked horrible, and I barely remember that entire month. How strange for you to see all of that. The last time I remember talking to you on the phone, you called me drunk, when you were in the river? You told me you missed me, and how you had a live in girlfriend, and your life sounded so far from mine. So happy. I felt like such an anchor to you. I felt like I would never be able to be with you, or get over you. I broke somewhere inside. I wrote you. I was so drunk, and sad, and messed up. But I wrote you something, which I cannot remember. And you called a few times. You left a message saying we needed to talk. And I never called you back. I ran away. And we got lost, and faded, and nothing came from us. Your absence haunts me. It’s been 3 years. And I still find you in my sleep. I don’t know how to lie this to rest. My life is so far from where it once was, but still I carry this with me. I know that I cannot change the past. But I want you to know, that I am so sorry for everything I have ever put you through. I hope that your life is everything that I know you deserve. I will always love you, no matter what. Love-O-Meter   4.50 out of 5 hearts Add your vote! How many hearts does this story rate? 1 is lowest, 5 is highest. Submit your own story Most Recent Love Stories
Theme by TheBootstrapThemes
|