There will always be that one person I’ll never really get over. I mean, sure, I went for days, months, even years without thinking about him, but the second I see him or hear his name in passing, my stomach drops and I feel like I could just puke. Forget butterflies, I feel the whole zoo in my tummy every time he’s there. And then suddenly, these feelings I’ve suppressed all these years, those memories I tried so hard to forget, they all come rushing back. It’s like I want to come up to him and say, “Hey. Did you miss me? Did you miss us?” And it makes me hate myself. I thought I was over it, over him. I thought that when I saw him with another girl, I would realize that we’re really done. But I guess things don’t work out that way, at least not for me.
I know this sounds pathetic, but maybe if he called me right this second and asked me if he could see me, I would leave everything and come to him. I know, I know, stupid as it is, but it almost feels good knowing that I can want someone so bad; that in a world where everything is unsure, there is one thing I’m actually sure about.
I can still remember the little details – like the way his shirt smells, the way he liked his coffee black with a hint of cinnamon, or the way his voice sounded when he said ‘Okay’ after knowing that I asked someone else to be my date to the senior prom. These memories still linger in my mind, like that awful aftertaste when you drink orange juice right after you brush your teeth. Up until now, it all seem so vivid to me. It’s been years since then, and even after everything, I still can’t believe that I’m still pining over him.
Maybe I’m not over him because I still can’t accept the fact that we ended things even before it started. We said that we’ll try to make things work despite the distance, the time, the phone bills, and it only took us a short while before realizing that it can’t be done. Somehow, after three or four months of trying, he faded out, like the shirt he gave me that has gotten lighter after being worn so many times. I knew we were drifting apart, but I refused to believe it. I refused to acknowledge the cold, hard truth that was staring me right in the face. And he knew it, but was just too much of a coward to say it then. Because of this, we will always seem unfinished. And I guess I just need to accept that he’ll never love me back the way I wanted him to, the way I needed him to.
Admit it, we all have that one person we’ll always believe to be ‘The One.’ We all have that one person that can spoil our day or turn it all around. And in a way, I have to confess that feeling this way for someone makes me feel good, because it makes me realize that I am not completely dead inside and that I am capable of loving someone as much. Maybe one day I’ll feel nothing. Maybe one day, I’ll finally hope for nothing and accept everything. Maybe.