Of All the Things I Should Forget

I sat on the top of the stairs, knees tucked into my chest, as I watched you walk out my door. You said goodbye to my dad, climbing into your car. He had no idea why you were leaving so soon. There hadn’t been enough time for it to sink in, yet tears slid down my cheek. What happened, I didn’t want to say. It took everything I had not to go after you; I had to salvage any dignity I had left. I couldn’t believe it was over.

You seemed off when you finally came over that night. You sat on the bed, listening to me ramble on about my first day as an adult, smiling at all the right spots. Finally you got the courage to say, “We need to talk.”

I asked, “Are you going to break up with me?” followed by a laugh.

You said nothing.

“Oh, you are going to break up with me,” again I laughed.

You weren’t laughing. You stumble over words I’m sure you rehearsed. I wanted no part of it. I tried to get up and walk out of the room but you grabbed my arm to pull me back.

 “Don’t fucking touch me,” I said. In seconds, anger was transformed into sadness. I finally caved into your arms and you let me cry.

You don’t want me.

***

 I flashed back to junior high, when I first met you. We didn’t know we would be best friends. A few years later, you helped me dump my newest jackass of a boyfriend. You kept me safe as my personal body guard. You never let me down.

That summer, it finally clicked. You had liked me that whole time. I couldn’t believe I was so oblivious. The next two years we were together. We spent days on the soccer field, pretending we were pros. So many days spent watching George Lopez reruns until we both fell asleep. I remember the first time you told me you loved me.  I had loved you too.

***

I don’t know how we got here. You’re dressed in your army uniform, saying goodbyes before heading off to basic. I stand on the tips of my toes as I hug you one more time. “Bye bud. Keep in touch ok?” you ask. All I can manage is a nod.