I don’t know how I’m supposed to remember you. When memories of you sift through my mind, bringing back to life your smile or your laugh, they don’t know what feelings to bring back with them. It’s simpler when we can have a label, some category to put our experiences in. It makes it a bit easier to swallow when it’s all said and done. Yet sometimes we don’t have the mercy of a label. There isn’t always a clean understanding where you gain clarity.
You held no label, and I have no basis to this day on what to make of you.
I wish I knew where you fit in. On days where you came to visit me at work and the days where we talked about things that had happened in your life, I felt like we were friends. The nights where you kissed my cheek or my forehead and told me I looked beautiful, you seemed like a boyfriend. When I heard you were moving away, from everyone else but you, it felt like I was nothing at all.
The night you came to my apartment and really kissed me, I felt like you were an almost. Someone who might’ve been, but would never be. I think if I’m honest I could admit that here or there, we would have never been. We would have traveled in the same circles, of changing labels every encounter until it wore one or both of us down.
We like to believe that we are better than this. We like to believe that we won’t get caught up in people who take us in circles. We believe we can get on the ride for as long as we want. We don’t feel, we don’t assume, and then we get off when we get sick of it. I’ve never known how to do that, though. I certainly didn’t want to do that with you. I stayed on the ride trying to figure it out. You would leave, return, ask to see me, and I’d come back every time.
We promise ourselves we are better than this. We tell ourselves we are worth more, that we deserve more. When I was out of your gravity, I knew this wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. Yet, the first utterance of “Wow, you look beautiful today” made my entire resolve break down completely.
The last time you asked to see me, I said yes. Yet when you bailed at the last second, that was the night that finally woke me up from whatever this game was that we were playing. You were not, nor would you ever be, someone I would end up with. We had no type of relationship. You weren’t my friend. You weren’t more. You were just you. And everything you were seemed to shake up everything I was.
I wonder about you from time to time. I hope you’re doing well, and I hope your life is going exactly the way you want it to. And I can only hope that there aren’t dozens of other girls who can’t determine what label you are in their lives. I’d like to hope you’re better than that. I wouldn’t hope for anything else.