We were in college. You spoke to me in our media class and I straight away noticed your tattoos. After that we became inseparable.
Despite me being with someone else, you still insisted on us catching up for coffee every week and messing around throwing paper planes at each other in the computer labs when we felt everything was just getting too much. I would see you with her and you assured me she was just an old girlfriend. Not that I cared at the time. I had stupidly promised my heart to another.
And then you left. We kept in touch sporadically. Texting or Facebooking whenever something huge happened in our lives.
January came. You told me you were leaving for Europe and that we needed to see each other before we left. I agreed. As I was drifting off to sleep on a Saturday night when I should have been going out, you called to say you were nearby and we should catch up. And we did. You took me to this little beach in my neighborhood that I never even knew existed. We kissed for the first time and I felt my heart explode.
We stumbled back to my house euphoric. When you left a few hours later, you kissed me goodbye and said you would be in touch.
I decided to forget about it and put it down to a happy memory. Until a month before you left.
Again you requested to catch up, and we did at a bar this time. Drinking and discussing our futures. We talked about what happened and smiled, although your eyes betrayed a sense of regret. We didn’t want to hurt her, I didn’t want to hurt her, but I didn’t want you to leave. I wanted to be the one leaving with you. As we walked back to my car, you grabbed me and told me, “I can’t go without knowing” and kissed me like it was our last days on earth. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream at you not to leave and to tell me you wanted me and not her. You told me that maybe in another life…you were damn sure in another life.
You choose her. I understand why. I chose everyone else but you at the start.