You Again

I thought about you again today. Maybe it's because I just got out of my first relationship or that this time last year our friendship reached new heights, but I can't get you out of my mind. I looked through my journal tonight and read about the first time I realized I liked you and how afraid I was because of the age (and height) difference. I wasn't supposed to fall for someone like you. It wasn't practical. I guess nothing about us has been. I'm the girl whose heart was guarded by high walls and even higher hopes. I was a tease. Flirting was an art I had mastered, but the instant I saw a boy look at me with more than friendship in his eyes I played the "friends" card with a steely smile and cool charisma. I was well rehearsed. You were the popular guy and everyone loved you. You were confident and smooth with enough goofiness to get away with any visible quirks. You were the guy every girl wanted and I was the girl that didn't want any guy.
Before I knew it, I was in love. I was in love with the look people gave me when we were together; that look of envy that I was "that girl." I was in love with being the lucky one. I was in love with the way you would surprise me with a compliment in the middle of our conversation. I was in love with how you loved your family more than friends, and the church more than your family. I was in love with how you would sing loud even if it wasn't right. I was in love that you embodied the love of Christ. I was in love with the way people knew it. I was in love with your Justin Bieber hair. I was in love with your mom. I was in love with our potential, but I wasn't in love with you. I was in love with the idea of you.

I admire you. I adore you. I just don't love you. Perhaps I'm too young, but mostly I think I am too afraid.

Did you know that you're the only boy I have ever cried over? It wasn't because you broke my heart, though, it's because you thawed it. I wasn't as afraid of love as I was loss. I didn't want to lose what we had. I could tell you anything and I just honestly wanted you to be happy. You let me be whoever I wanted to be and you loved me for it. I was never too loud or too silly; I was just Cami. You evened me out, without making me dull. I was never embarrassed or uncomfortable around you and then I just left. I had to go. People grow up and move out, but I didn't want to move on. I was scared. I was scared you would forget about me, but mostly I was afraid you wouldn't forget me and I would forget you. I was terrified I would just look back on us as a bright spot in my past. I didn't want to lose us. I didn't want stop our late night chats when I was beyond sanity. It frightened me that perhaps you would find someone to fill that spot in your life after I had moved on. I didn't want to be replaceable. I didn't want to replace you either. I wanted to pause.

Pause.

It's August 28th and it's our last date. You have planned a date more elegant than anything I had been on before and it would be just the two of us. I wore perfume and a skirt. I curled my hair because you told me you liked it like that. My nephew told me I looked like a princess and you told me he was right. We took pictures in a photo booth and wore fake mustaches. I was giddy. We sang loudly in the car and danced like mad at red lights. We discussed adult topics at an adult restaurant. I laughed too loud making everyone stare, but it made you laugh harder. We went to a party afterwards and danced under the stars. When you dropped me off we talked for so long that your mom called to make sure everything was okay. We didn't know how to say goodbye so we just laid on the grass and starred at the stars. I thought you might hold my hand. I wouldn't have objected. I felt alive. The ice around my heart thinned a little.

The next day I bawled during church. I couldn't even sing the final hymn. I ran out of tears. My bones felt fatigued. I couldn't talk without a sob escaping my lips. My heart was still intact, but my dreams seemed but distant smoke.

I blame you for keeping me from dating that first semester. How could any guy compare when I had experienced someone so close to perfect? The few dates I went on were disappointments and I acted uninterested to potential candidates. Other guys could tell that there was another guy. They didn't know that our friendship was dwindling, though. You and I continued to talk, but the space between calls became more prominent and our conversations more distant and cliche. Eventually you stopped replying to my texts. That was during the black part of my semester. Everything seemed to be falling apart and you weren't even there for me.

Don't feel guilty. I don't want you to feel bad because that wasn't your fault, it was just fate.

I needed to let go. I learned to rely on my roommate and lost myself in schoolwork. Some friends from one of my classes began to take me to parties with them and I got into more of the social scene. Then you made a reappearance. It was my second semester and I was in a marriage prep class. I know, I know, and not even I know why I signed up for it. I guess peer pressure got to me. I had to write a paper on the qualities of someone I had dated and you were the closest thing. I cried. I cried because I had left. I cried because you had moved on. I cried because you were the closest thing I had to even the most basic level of love and I hadn't talked to you in months. I cried because I couldn't help but wonder.

February was a month of change. I changed my major to Nursing. I made some changes in my personal life. I drove down to Utah to see you. That's when it finally happened. After almost a year and a half of butterflies and a blockaded heart I was over you. When I saw you it was different. I was different. You were different. I felt free. So why am I thinking about you?

Again.