When We Were Young

A Story by CoachBrax

On the eve of his wedding day, one man has to come to terms with one relationship that was never meant to be, he has never had the heart to let go of, nor receive closure on.

Mr. and Mrs. Jayson Bringham.

The only phrase I have been looking forward to my entire life. Finally at the age of thirty-one, I finally had the chance to listen to that phrase as my wife Campbell and I exchanged our vows. In a sudden turn of events on the eve of our wedding day, it had the potential to all come crashing down.

Campbell was spending the week before our wedding at her sister's house across time to rejuvenate our relationship when we became married. So the night before, I was rummaging around my junk figuring what to throw out before my wife moved into our house, what was once mine. Making my way to the garage, I saw a box peaking out the doorway of one of its storage rooms. I slowly and quietly walked to it as if it was jack-in-the-box inside. As I took a seat and opened the box, I found numerous knickknacks. My old high school yearbooks, multi-colored bandanas from senior year's homecoming week--and then in the bottom left corner, I saw my old phone.

Granite it was a small, somewhat prehistoric Samsung from the teenage days, but when I turned the power button on... it turned on. Fully charged after about fifteen years of inactivity, many text messages began to ring, only from one person in particular: Brook Dixon.

Brook Dixon was an ex-girlfriend of mine. My first kiss. The girl I lost my "kiss virginity" to. She was all that, every time I experienced something whether it be love, hate, validation, it was with her coincidentally. She was a flirt and took me out of my nerdy shell in the three years of our constant on again-off again relationships. Came my sophomore year (her freshman year), I became highly involved in my clubs and sport, attempting to gain that full-ride scholarship and go DI after we broke up eight months before. Somehow moreover, she wisped back into her game and we began to "talk".

However, with my ever-moving, constant schedule, she couldn't take that. It wasn't resonating with her that my life didn't stop moving because we broke up. She told me she "likes to be clingy, and didn't have anyone to hang onto." Don't get me wrong, I understood where she was coming from but she made it seem as if it was my fault and I should be sorry to her for a busy schedule. Therefore it ended pretty bitter on my part, only getting worse when she decided to date my best friend, Masen Briggs. Masen was a basketball phenom of not only our school and county, but our state and I was just a scrawny track & field kid who liked to run; it made me insecure about who I was and my friendship with Masen. It took most of tenth grade year for me to forgive Masen, but I never forgave Brook. I couldn't.

All her messages coming in were sent to my old number, back when I was in college and still had this lousy phone. Some were mean, desperate, nevertheless some were also enlightening, feelings of guilt even for the her and Masen situation. But one text stood out to me.

"ihy , but i dont . you havent texted me back in so long, just cant keep doing this to myself and im changing my number. bye forever ."

It really hit me. What if I texted her back and we would we be together now? What if I didn't Campbell again after senior year? What if I saw Brook instead? All these questions began to sound in my head to the point I thought I had schizophrenia for a hot second.

I quickly realized that I could not marry my beautiful, respectful, lovable, caring fiancee the next day if I didn't get any closure from the tumultuous years in school stemming from Brook Dixon. I began to think how could I do this in a way where I would be okay and not disturb any piece in either of our lives.I looked at the text and reread where she said she was getting a new number. I could just text this inactive number and rid of myself of the hurt I had received and buried in my subconscious. I began to type,

Brook Mari-Marie Dixon, sixteen years, and I haven't been able to let you go. When we were young, you were my world. When I decided to pursue other relationship during our break-ups, it never felt the same as when I was with you. You were not just my girlfriend, but my confidante and my best friend. My number-one supporter when I ran and I was yours during your bats and catches. Then you began to play me and my emotions, but nothing was as worse as when you began dating Masen. You may not know this but he is now a collegiate basketball coach and has never asked about you. Just to throw that out there.You hurt my heart and threatened our friendship because only by the grace of God was I able to forgive Masen, you not so much. But as I am writing this, I feel sudden inner peace flowing into my life. Without you in my life and Campbell Evele Tordai filling that void, she was more than you could ever be in my life and I rebuke the spirit of inadequacy and insecurity I felt concerning you. You were not a blessing to my life, just a lesson had to learn in this difficult, strenuous game called Life and Reality. It simply is what it is. I do not want to hear from you or try to ruin the happiness and joy that has settled into my life. Hope nothing is wrong and will ever be. When we were young, we were golden...but we're not young anymore. ~JB

As I read over the text message, God was re-opening my eyes and using me to do the right thing. Pressing send on that was maybe the hardest thing I have did in my entire life.

Suddenly my phone in my back pocket began to vibrate. I pulled it out and saw it was Campbell calling to check in like she does every night. Yet, also the old phone began to ring with Brook's caller ID. I thought she got a new number? So now I am being forced to choose who matters more in my life. So I made that choice.

I looked at Brook's call and took my phone into the air, and slammed it down with all might I had in my body. Running off adrenaline and strength, the phone smashed and pieces of debris flew and ricocheted in different directions. Brook Dixon was done having influence over my life. I looked at my current phone and saw Campbell's call was labeled as "missed call." My fiancee and I have a system we made up described as if one of us calls (excluding times of tragedy and sudden seriousness) and the other doesn't pick up, the next time they call they get sent to voicemail. What I needed to tell her couldn't wait and I needed to tell her at that moment.

I picked up my phone and went to her contact. I opened my messages and texted her the following:

459. I love you soon-to-be Campbell Bringham.

I can't wait to make you my wife in twelve hours. ~ hub

© 2016 CoachBrax

Author's Note

Loosely based on an ex-girlfriend that has thrown me around for a loop since my seventh grade year and in my way of writing, attempting to gain closure (August 2016)