blushing pink heels, matching flush all over my face.
silver and pearl tiara.
"Where is she?" you wondered. Well damn, it took you long enough to worry about me. It can be pathetic what meager moments I savored, tiny details I twisted into concern.
I wasn't sure who to hug first. I threw my arms around my best friend after a panicked moment. You seemed offended. Looking back, I'm a little annoyed that you'd expect the first hug. Especially after avoiding me for an entire semester. As if I wasn't everything you'd hoped for. As if I wasn't good enough for you.
Did I need a haircut? Was I too needy? Can I let it all go almost 3 years later after stumbling across the diary entry that reminded me? I guess not, because here I am, writing about it like it occurred just yesterday.
Finally, I got to the wine. The guy Lauren wound up dating months later after we broke up got it open. I settled for his cousin when you stopped being an option. God, what a horrible idea. Kicking myself for that choice, too. But you and I, we were never a sure thing the first go 'round.
I'm walking barefoot up the steps. You're worried about me cutting my feet. I'm surprised again that you care, so I hang onto the moment in my mind like a grain of sand worth a million dollars.
Three solo cups deep, I'm outside sitting on your lap. Was this the first time? I'm wearing your sweatshirt. I'm smoking a cigar.
You left first, and I cried. Your fingers were all over me in the back seat. For what?
You tried to be nice to me on my birthday, saying you'd be back for Christmas break and we would see each other. I'm thinking you knew what was going to happen when we saw each other. I feel like an idiot, still, even though we bridged the gaps after some time apart. I'm still feeling dumb. I'm wanting to go back and give myself strength to stand up for myself.
Your friend gave me 20$ for my birthday, offered me a sober ride home. That's care. I said no thanks, I had a girlfriend driving me home.
Lauren said you just didn't seem like an emotional guy, a relationship guy. I shrugged her off, I lied to myself. You weren't then.
You were texting me, calling me princess, telling me I was beautiful, filling my head with lies that every guy in the room wished I were their girlfriend. You were being nice to me for the first time in five months, since we first got together. Nobody should ever have to wait like I did. Nobody.
I can't believe that's what we were. I'm so glad we aren't anymore, but I'm still scared of it. I'm scared that we were both that down and out, I'm scared it could happen again. That's my most dreaded memory, in print, and it's the scariest, weirdest combination of details ever recorded by my hand. I don't think it will ever be like that again, but if it is, I hope I recognize what I deserve, and fight for it.
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