Dear Samuel,
I thought about you today, a lot. I guess you can call it a kind of relapse. Some days I can go through the day without you even crossing my mind, and for others you’re running laps. Well, that’s not entirely true, I still think of you every day. But I can cut off the string that ties that balloon to my wrist and go on with my day. However, somehow you always manage to float back, and entwine between my fingers once more. Even a year later. I’m not sure what brought it on this time though, I guess it was probably the Internet going out, haha, as silly as it sounds. Cut off from the distraction of friends and TV, I was left alone with my thoughts. I couldn’t stop myself, I ran and opened the drawer I swore I never would. Dug past the letters, the pictures, the seashells, and opened up my old phone to read that message you sent me so long ago. August twelfth. Eleven twelve at night. I meant everything I said earlier.
I remember what you said Samuel. Maybe someday in the future, if you were free of your relationship and the restraints of distance and high school, we could be together. I remember how you said it so nonchalant, over french fries in a dimly lit bowling alley, on our last day together. You texted me late at night, to remind me of it, made me think it was important and special, made me think it was something you intended to follow through on. But, hun, I think you lied to me. Because here I am a year later, and I can count on my fingers the times we’ve talked since then. Since the plane left this island. Since last summer. Since water parks and parties and late night chats on the room and feeling alive. You, silly boy, thinking I could both move on with my life and still hold on to the thought that maybe you’d come back for me. Me, silly girl, thinking the exact same thing. But I can’t do both. I have every reason to move on, every reason in the world. Your age, your faulty hold on commitment, your ability to make me feel like nothing at all, all should be enough to make me want to stay away. But those six words, those six little words haunt me always. If I move on, if I’m not waiting for you, what will happen then?
I’ve loved you since I was a thirteen year old freshman in braces. And here I sit, nearly seventeen, having given you my heart and body, watching you live your life as though you had never known me. Never gave me my first kiss, never cried on my shoulder, never led me behind the trees away from prying eyes and smiled into my neck. You live as though it never happened. Why can’t I move on from it then, if it’s so easy for you? I guess I can blame it on being a sentimental fool, wanting my first love to be my only. It defies every piece of logic, every wise thing ever said, to keep pining like this. It’s funny, because all of my friends tell me that even if you did come back for me, that I shouldn’t want you. That I should tell you “NO!” and slam the door in your face. You kept me waiting so long, while you moved on with college, with her, and LIFE. But even though I deny it to them, when I’m home lying in bed, I smile to myself, because I know the answer is yes. It has always been yes. Yes, I still love you. Yes, I’ll follow you to the ends of the Earth. Yes, I’ll give you every inch of my skin. Yes, I’ll wait forever. Because, I have no choice. I close my eyes and all I see is blue. You froze me in time, only to thaw out with your touch. You may not want me now, or ever, but I’m always yours. Everything is forgiven, the time and the ache. The tears and the sleepless nights.
I should ask for your forgiveness too, I guess. I’m sorry for lying. I knew what I was getting into, I said. I won’t get attached, I said. Ha, it was a ridiculous story and I knew it, but I would have said anything to be able to press my skin against yours just one more time. Because, I never did know when it would be the last time. Understand my desperation, I would have done anything to feel slightest bit of your attention and affection. I would have given everything to feel beautiful for a few seconds, under your appreciative gaze while layers of clothes fell to the floor. Little did you know that you were removing the layers of my spirit too, given freely without a second thought. I may have my clothes back now, but I’m still naked and raw.
Oh, but I would do it again, give it all away, have you take more if I could. I imagine you carry those layers with you now, unknowing. I hope you feel that love, across this unforgiving ocean. I hope that every now and then you smile for no reason, and it will be the energy you carry in your heart’s pocket, slipped there in secret with my lips pressed against your chest.
I don’t know if you really did mean everything you said earlier, but I mean everything I’m saying now.