The Good
Times
When I
hear those words, I think of nothing but photographs. Hundreds of photographs.
Photographs of two smiling people; two young people in love. When I hear those
words, I imagine two voices laughing and joking with each other for hours; two
voices whispering “I love you” before they fall asleep on the phone together.
When I hear those words, I see the colors blue and gold. When I hear the words
“the good times,” I recall so many numbers; 11, 21, 24, 26. I recall a pug, a
black lab, and a black cat. I recall every “good time” we ever had.
The
words “the good times” now are nothing more than memories fading away more and
more each day. They are the photographs I still keep tucked away in their own
private album on my computer. They are the numbers 11, 21, 24, 26 which meant
so much to us. They are the days we spent in your living room tickling each
other as if it were life or death until we got tired, surrendered, and finally
fell asleep in each other’s arms. They are the times we fought and screamed for
hours over nothing because of how stubborn we both were. They are the “I love
you” more fights, the “I miss you” hugs, the “I’ll never leave you” promises.
They are the most perfect days; the days we thought would last forever.
The Good
Times
Those
times now are in the past. From May 11, 2015 through February 4, 2016; those
days must be let go now. It is time for me to package up the memories in my
mind just as I packaged up your hoodies and presents. It is time for me to put
them in a box in the back of my brain as I did when I put your belongings in a
box under my bed. From the day we first met, to the day we last kissed; those
memories and experiences in paradise must be shoved away into the dark places
of my mind where I keep the brightest and happiest moments of my life. It is
time to let go of these days and never look back. It is time to move on.
May 11,
2015: The Day We First Spoke
May 21,
2015: The Day We First Met
May 24,
2015: The First Time I Visited You at Work
June 4,
2015: The First Time You Asked Me to be Yours
June 26,
2015: Five Years Since She Died; Your Birthday
September
26, 2015: The Day We Got Back Together, for a Day
November
28, 2015: The First and Only Time You Visited Me at Work
December
11, 2015: The Day We Were Finally Together, for Real
December
15, 2015: Your Second Basketball Game
December
16, 2015: My Christmas Orchestra Concert
December
22, 2015: The First Day at Your House
December
24, 2015: Christmas Eve
December
25, 2015: Christmas Day
December
31, 2015: New Year’s Eve
January
2, 2016: My Birthday Party
January
3, 2016: My Birthday
January
9, 2016: Just a Day
January
11, 2016: One Month
January
16, 2016: Double Date with Your Parents
January
22, 2016: The Mendon Game
January
24, 2016: Our Second Movie Date
January
30, 2016: The Last Good Time.
I do not
want to write about this day. But I have to. This day was the last time I saw
you. This was the last good day. The last of the “good times.” You picked me up
from my house. No one was home, so when you came to the door you greeted me
with the “I miss you” hug we had only had one other time. We drove back to your
house. This was the longest we’d been in the car together, and it was actually
quite enjoyable. Our first real car ride together with you driving. You held my
hand while you drove. I remember the stuffed penguin I got from a crane machine
for you was in the seat with me. You treated that thing like it was your child.
We got to your house and spent some time there. After a while of cuddling and
stuff, we went for a short little drive and then went to Emma’s benefit. I felt
incredibly awkward and out of place there. I barely talked, but when Emma got
there I knew you needed me. I know it was stupid of me to ask if you were okay,
but I was hoping you’d be honest with me and tell me you needed me. I knew you
did regardless, so I tried my best to comfort you as much as I could. We left
the benefit after a couple of hours to meet your family at Hacienda for dinner.
Dinner with them was so much fun. I remember everyone teasing me the whole time
because of how small I am. That was nothing new from your family, but they did
it more than ever that night. I loved it. Your family’s the only people I ever enjoyed
the teasing from. I hate it from anyone else. After dinner, your mom wanted to
pick up a stove. Your parents took your truck to Lowe’s, and Curtis, you, and I
took their Escape. It was so much fun running around Lowe’s with you. It felt
like we were little kids. It felt like we were more of a couple in that moment
than any other moment in our relationship. After Lowe’s, Curtis drove us back
home. He blasted ridiculous rap music (which I ended up downloading) and I took
a bunch of funny videos. I remember how much I looked forward to him being my
brother one day. That was the night the song “Me, Myself & I” became kind
of our song. I took that video of you kissing me, and that was it. It was our
song from that moment on. Pretty ironic song choice, but I loved it
nonetheless. I went home that night; you dropped me off, and we fought. We
fought worse in the car that night than I think we’d ever fought before. I
hated that fight. I hated it so much. That fight was what finally broke me
down. It made me realize you didn’t want me anymore. That one fight about her.
You’ll never understand. But that doesn’t matter now. When we reached my house,
we sat for a minute and fixed things. I made sure we were okay. I made sure you
were okay. When you finally got home, everything blew up. I don’t mean in a
terrible way, either. I mean the “I love you more than life itself” way. That
night you made me feel more wanted and loved than I’d ever felt in my entire
life. I thought finally things would be okay and we’d be happy and perfect
again. I thought we’d be like that every day after. I was wrong. I was so very
wrong. Sometimes I wonder if you were like that that night because you knew you
were going to leave. I wonder if you wanted me to feel loved one last time
before you left. It doesn’t matter anymore, but I’ll always wonder.
That was
the last good night we ever had. You left only days later. You left me with so
many questions. You left me broken. You broke me along with every promise you’d
ever made in the nine months we’d been in each other’s lives. In the weeks
we’ve been apart, I’ve missed you almost more than anything. I’ve gone from
wanting you back to never wanting to speak to you again approximately 21 times.
In the time we’ve been apart, I’ve cried and screamed and wanted nothing more
than to make you feel the pain you made me feel. But I’ve also smiled and
laughed and wanted nothing more than to thank you for everything you’ve done,
good and bad. In the time we’ve been apart, you’ve kissed multiple other girls
while I’ve still got the taste of your lips on my mouth. You now have a new
girlfriend not even a month after leaving me. You no longer want me back. You
want nothing to do with me. Our future has vanished into thin air just like the
boy I used to know and love.
That is why I’m writing this to you. You hurt
me worse than anyone ever has, and that’s why I’m writing this. I’m writing
this so I can finally let go of the good times. You gave me the best times of
my life, but also the worst. You showed me not everyone is the same, but some
people are much worse than others. You showed me the truth about who you are.
The boy who gave me all of those good days was just a dream.
You no longer care for me and I
don’t know if you ever did. But I’m writing this to you so I can finally let
you go. You do not want to speak to me again, and that’s okay. I’m okay. Our
future is gone. It never happened. It was a dream, just like you.
I wish you the best in life. I am glad you
finally got what you wanted. I apologize for not being enough for you. I
apologize, also, for all of the wrong things I’ve done. But you’ve done wrong,
too. Do not forget that. I will end with this: I do love you still. But one
day, when you look back and remember what we had, I will no longer be here. You
taught me what I’m worth, and I thank you for that. I will find better one day.
So thank you.
March
11, 2016: The Day that Never Came.
No comments:
Post a Comment