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You'd have been my wife, had I been bolder. Can you imagine it, us married and with children. I meant what I said back then, I would have paid for you to go to university with my trust fund. If that wasn't enough I would have worked for the rest. I'd have married you before graduation, and let you graduate a missus. I can't tell you how many times I dreamt of waking up next to you, your hair spilled across my pillow. You were the only girl I ever fell for.
You know when I first saw you, I brushed you off as another beautiful girl happy to sell her body to the highest bidder. So many guys were captivated by you, I thought for certain you were ignorant and waiting on gifts from admirers.
Then the most amazing thing happened, I got to know you. You were smart, quick thinking, humble, diligent, patient, open minded, shy. The times I spent with you were some of my happiest moments. I used to look forward to seeing you everyday, to hear you laugh, see you smile. The more I looked at you, the more I couldn't get enough.
You loved to wear blue, and I loved to see you in it. My favourite was that chiffon blue blouse you wore almost every a week. I imagine it was your favourite as well, you wore it more often than the green one, and you looked more beautiful in it than anything else.
I'll never forget the day your grandfather died. You were so sad, I was worried you wouldn't stay for the day. I tried to take your mind of it, I think I did a terrible job, some of my jokes steered right back on the topic of family and grandparents. You had barely laughed, but you stayed the day nonetheless. I was happy, I needed to see you, you were addicting, I never had enough of you.
Do you remember that Friday in early fall, the day it rained. It was so cold indoors that day, you were freezing. I gave you my jacket, and you wore it all day. I was cold but I didn't mind, seeing you in my jacket made me happy enough to ignore the cold. I confess, when you returned it I wasn't sure what to expect. I didn't notice until I threw on my jacket to go home, but the smell of you, your perfume, had soaked into it. That subtle sweet smell. I pulled the collar up and inhaled your scent all the way home, I even slept in the jacket that night. Bringing a piece of you home left me ecstatic.
But seeing you and talking to you weren't enough. I needed to feel you. I swear it started of harmless. I was curious, I wanted to hold your hand, but I didn't want to upset you or scare you off. So I asked for a handshake. Your hand was so much smaller, mine practically swallowed it. Your hand was soft, your skin smooth, your palm radiated warmth. Time felt like it had stopped, I didn't want to let go. I held on tight and kept shaking your hand, you laughed it off as one of my playful tricks.
You remember those days right, everytime we met I'd shake your hand. Then you were ill for a few days and I thought I was going crazy, the hours seemed to drag on, the next day never came soon enough. When you came back I shook your hand longer than usual, I asked about your health and welcomed you back with overblown charade. Then I pretend I hadn't noticed the gold ring and bracelet you wore everyday. You kept holding my hand even as you told me the stories about them.
But I was getting worse, my need to touch you was growing. We often sat together, and when I needed to touch you, I'd hold out my open hand between us, and you'd rest your hand in mine. But I sat on your right side, and you were right handed, so I moved to your left. It was easy for me, I'm ambidextrous, I could hold your hand longer and still function.
Then gradually you drifted away, you had made friends with some popular girls, you spent more time with them and less with me. I wasn't mad, you seemed happy to have more friends. I liked watching you laugh and smile with them, I figured it would be better for you to be with them. But I missed you, and the moments we did have together you were holding my hand less and less.
Then one day you showed up, you had on; a pair of those ridiculous big hoop earrings; a bright coloured high top shoes; a pair of jeans that gripped your body like a second skin; a vest and short jacket, make up; and your usually tamed curly titan hair, was in a half-up ponytail. You looked cheap. There was no trace of the girl I had fallen in love with. I pulled you aside and told you that. I hurt you. You were mad at me, said I was the only one who couldn't be happy for you, that everyone else said you were beautiful. I still think I was right then, and maybe now you see what I saw. The gold, emerald studded drop earrings I showed you would have suited you a million times better.
You stopped hanging around me after that, sure we met up at lunch, but you never stayed alone with me. Then I found out you were dating him. I had heard him in the halls before- while we were still close- talking to his friends, he said he would get to you first and then after they could have their turns. I was determined not to let him have that chance, but when we drifted apart you ended up with him. God Eli, I was so jealous everyday I thought of stabbing him. Pens, pencils, plastic knives, forks, that sharp piece of metal I had found underneath one of the desks. When it wasn't stabbing, it was cracking his head open against the sharp edges of the metal desks.
But you looked happy with him. Hanna even told me you were preparing lunch for him on some days. You, the girl who picked at her meals, wouldn't make her own lunch, opting instead for a sandwich from the cafeteria, you were cooking for him. She said you were pretentious, I said maybe you really were in love with him. I couldn't stand it Eli, that ache in my heart, the thought that he was probably screwing you already. I started jerking off to that one picture I had of you, just to make myself feel better, I'd sometimes cry myself to sleep after too.
You still tried to be nice to me, but that hurt even more. I couldn't stand to see you smiling at me, so I pushed you away, told you to bug off and not talk to me. Pushing you away was easy, I deluded myself into thinking I hated you, but I couldn't keep my eyes off you, couldn't stop myself from thinking of you.
And then you moved. I'd forgotten you'd said you were moving at the end of the year. My world shattered. It was easy to pretend to hate you when I could still see you, when you were gone I had nothing. I felt empty. I tried to message you, but you'd already blocked me. I was sadder about losing you, than I was when my grandparents died, and I loved them.
After you left, I found out you hadn't slept with him, he seemed pretty bothered by it. I had heard he kept asking and you kept turning him down. I was happy, at least your integrity didn't waver. You know what else I confirmed after you left, those popular girls who you hung around, they were jealous of you. They wanted you to sleep with him, wanted you to be tainted like they were. You were beautiful and innocent, you didn't give in to guys like they did, they hated that about you. That's why they encouraged you to go out with him. Though I'm sure you realise that by now as well.
If I could go back, I wouldn't hesitate to ask you out. And if I did, I would have fought him for you. A lot of things were weighing on my mind back then, but I would fight for you. Even against my parents who said you weren't worth it.
I've been going to therapy lately, you know up until a few months ago I was sure I wouldn't get over you. Then one day I woke up, and I didn't ache at the thought of you. I don't feel like I love you anymore, I'm at peace with what happened between us. I also haven't jerked off to your picture in almost a year. I still have the picture, but I don't look at it as I used to. It's been sitting in the box I keep birthday cards.
I miss you.
I'm sorry if I hurt you back then.
- K
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P.S. I'm open to the idea of us being just friends again. We always had stimulating conversations, I don't get much of that from the girls I have in my circle of friends now.
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