It Took Me Two Years To Realize That You’re The One That Got Away

You.

You were a person who made me feel whole again. A love that made me feel at home. You were a person who made me laugh when I wanted to cry. You were the person who’s eyes I remember the most. You are the person who I still think about today.

Me.

I was an asshole. I treated you like you were a rebound. Like you didn’t mean much. Like I didn’t like the look in your eyes.  I didn’t deserve your laughter. I didn’t deserve your tears. I didn’t deserve the small adventures or to lay in that hammock on a hot summer’s day with you.

So I did it.

In the middle of a chilly night.

Ended it.

It.

I’m not really sure what ‘it’ was or what we even had to be honest. A nice friendship? Love? Lust? Best friends? Honestly, to this day, I don’t know what to label it. You were the one I always went back to for everything. You’re the one who I love texting funny photos back and forth to for hours. No words, just funny memes and photos.

It’s our way of communicating as weird as it sounds.

It’s the way we can tell each other things without actually saying them.

The last time I saw you, you had been drinking. Not heavily, you weren’t slurring or stumbling, but you were to the point of no inhibitions.  At this point, you decided to tell me hi. Not by the normal obnoxious drunken way by shouting my name across the lot, but by quietly making eye contact, walking over to me and grabbing the back of my head gently and kissing me on the top of my head.

Whoa.
Wait.
What are those things fluttering around.
Go away.
Shoo.
Fuck.

You quietly kissed the top of my head and said nothing more.

I was dumbfounded. So was my friend. We both just stared at each other and wondered what just happened. She asked if we had been talking recently. I said ‘Nope’.

Because we hadn’t talked in probably two years.

Two. Years.

But your face. Your touch. Your voice. Your goofiness. It all came rushing back in a quiet moment. The bar was raging with music and I really couldn’t hear myself think and now it was suddenly silent.

Absolute silence.

How could one kiss on the head do that? How.

Later, you messaged me to come over and hang out with you and your buddies. So, obviously, I did. When we arrived, we talked, laughed, joked, caught up. I forgot there were even people around us to be honest with you.

Later, we watched a movie until we both kind of sobered up. Nothing special, just an animated one we laughed and talked about the meaning of for a couple hours. We happened to turn towards each other at the same time and something went haywire.

We didn’t do anything. We just stared. I could hear your thoughts and you could hear mine.

We looked away back to the television and continued watching the chameleon.

Soon, the sun was coming up. It was dawn. You walked us out to the car and closed my door.

You just stood in the street.

I looked in the rear view mirror.

Came across a picture of you the other day. You were smiling and looking directly into the camera, smiling.

You’re doing well. I’m doing well. We’re doing well. We’re not together.

But we have a connection that won’t ever be broken.

I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s that thing that people say:

You’re the one that got away.