Imagery

Based on a true story. That sounded way too serious...

I must be going crazy.

 

In the process of rummaging through my closet trying to find something to wear, I came across an old navy blue t-shirt and I was instantly reminded of you. Memories are a funny thing. I don't remember what month it was, or what I got for my birthday that year, or if I was still in school or not... But I remember you, wearing a navy blue t-shirt in the backseat of his car with your hair let down. That was the first time we met.

 

And I remember thinking to myself how beautiful you were, and always wishing I could be like you. One of the lucky girls who didn't have to try too hard to be pretty. They just were, just like you. And I remember going to see that movie, all three of us, and laughing so hard that you and I almost peed on ourselves right there in the theater. You gave me a hug and your number before I went home that night and told me we should hangout again soon. That was the moment we became friends.

 

I remember sitting beside you on the concrete, in the middle of a gorgeous summer night and talking about nothing while you smoked a cigarette. I asked about your tattoo, and prayed to God that you couldn't hear my heart beating through my chest. You told me about him, about how upset you were over everything that happened between you two. The wine glass you kicked across the floor, the journal you burned... Then you moved closer to me, and reached for my hand. That was the night that everything changed.

 

And I remember how I couldn't stop thinking about you for days afterward, how I always wanted to talk to you or hangout, just to make sure that you wouldn't forget about me. I remember calling her up, and asking what all of it meant because I had never felt that way before. I remember sitting in my room, staring at the wall and asking myself if this was who I really was. I remember sending you that message, and I remember your reply. That was the night I realized that I was in love with you.

 

I remember writing our names in the wet pavement by the library they built, and driving just to see where we'd end up. We stopped for ice cream, I don't remember what town we were in, and you paid for it with a roll of quarters. And we sat outside in your car, listening to Copeland and waiting for the sun to go down. But you weren't wearing a longsleeved shirt like you usually were, and for the first time I saw them, and I finally understood why you spent hours in the bathroom with the door locked. You weren't brushing your teeth or shaving your legs like you said you were. That was the night that everything started to make sense.

 

I remember sitting in your room with the lights off and the window open, and a full moon outside that lit up your face like nothing I'd ever seen before. And seeing your paintings and sketches thrown across the floor, and all of the pictures and posters torn off the walls. The only thing that remained was a small yellow post-it note, the one I had left on your dresser months before and was sure you had forgotten about or thrown away. But there it was, with the words "I love you" in black magic marker, stuck on the wall right beside your bedpost. And you walked over to where I was sitting on the floor, with your shadow chasing after you, and kissed me. That was the best moment of my entire life.

 

I remember the long winter weeks that followed, and getting lost on our trip to see Fences in Durham that nobody knew about. We stayed in a cheap hotel that night, and got drunk off of boxed wine and mini bottles of Jack Daniels. And we went farther than we'd ever gone before, and woke up to the sound of your father calling and wondering where in the hell you had been. You lied and said you'd stayed with your cousin that night, even though I begged you to tell him the truth. That you were with me, and that we were together and in love. But instead you hung up the phone and looked at me like it was nothing, and told me not to worry about it. I remember you saying it would be better that way. That was the day you told me we had to keep everything a secret.

 

I remember moving into that apartment by the mall, and always getting stuck in traffic on my way home. You got a job in an office, and I remember you telling me that for the first time in your life you felt free. We'd spend our nights on the couch watching Friends re-runs and eating Chinese takeout from the place down the street with the rude cashier that wore too much perfume. I remember lying awake at night beside you, while you were sound asleep and wishing time would stand still, right then and there. The alarm clock would always go off at 6:35, and you started working late and going in on weekends. I remember you changing, and the bad feeling I would get in the pit of my gut that made me sick to my stomach. That was when I found out about him.

 

I remember the day like it was yesterday. It was September 17th and I confronted you when you came home late that night. I remember the anger in my voice, and the tears on your face as we let our mouths run all over each other. You threw a bottle of red nail polish at me, I don't remember what I said to have made you do that. But I remember it hitting the wall and shattering, and red running down the wall and into the carpet, looking more like blood from a crime scene than anything else. I looked at it and felt the exact same way, like I was bleeding, and dying inside. I remember you saying that you weren't sorry, and stuffing a change of clothes into the Flyleaf tote I had bought you for your birthday. And I remember begging you not to leave, and kissing you as you stood at the door with your hand on the knob. But mostly, I remember you saying that things had gotten too hard as you opened the door, and the sound of your high heels clicking against the wooden stair steps, and finally the concrete down below. Then you cranked your car, and spun out of the parking lot like you had just robbed a bank. That was the night you broke my heart.

 

I remember how hard it was, forcing myself to move on. But I had to, because you did. I remember him telling me that you ended up marrying that guy, and that you had a little girl, and that he had never seen you happier than you were now. I gave up any hope I had left of seeing or hearing from you again, and I convinced myself that things would get better for me. I'm still waiting for that to happen. I remember telling you that I only wanted you to be happy, and I tried so hard to do that for you. And now all I'm left with is this stupid navy blue t-shirt, and these memories of you.