I am going to go places.

Just watch me.

I could rile myself up a storm and drown in a thousand what-could-have-been’s, replaying the same memories over and over. But the truth of the matter is, I can’t bring myself up to do it. I can’t hate the people who hate me. At the end of the day, I come home to this empty house knowing who I am, who loves me and who I love. And that, is a good enough reason to put my feelings at risk— to keep living the way I do.

Could you wake up another person and pretend that part of you never lived? I don’t think I could. I wouldn’t dream of looking in the mirror, if I were you. All you would see in that reflection is the ghost of the person you once were. The person you slaughtered with your murderous thoughts.

What breaks my heart more than anything else in the world is seeing the people who I love dearly, hurting inside and trying to keep it hidden. I can recognize the look resonating from their eyes and it shoots a pang deep into my heart. Nothing is worse than watching a heart shatter and not being able to do a single thing about it. Even if I’m desperately trying to catch the broken pieces and cutting my hands in the process.

I feel like my heart has been ripped from its hinges and now hangs loosely, swaying recklessly to and fro. I mustered all the courage I had. Really, I did. I acted out on a spontaneous whim, leaving the most silliest of sentences on your wall. You don't understand how much I riled myself up in thinking of things to say to you. I spent weeks lying in bed, my thoughts keeping me from sleeping and trying to string up a sentence that would throw things into action. And I did it. I left a comment on your wall and for a day you went without facebook. I figured that maybe you were just busy. The next day, you were commenting other people, completely disregarding my comment. Do you know how much that comment is worth? Tedious specks of time that comprised these past few months I was wrapping my head around you. And how easily it was disregarded! I don't know whether or not to laugh or weep. To giggle or shake my head. It is now apparent to me that perhaps you have moved on.

And that perhaps, I should, too, but right now I wish my heart would stop leaking tears. It's hard to focus through dewy eyes.

The signs and the pull of nature were bringing us together. No moment was a mere coincedence. Every opportunity was handed to us and it was left for us to seize. Discovering the fact that all these years you have lived down the street from me was a serendipitous collision of destinies. For seventeen years we’ve walked down the same cement tops, looking at the same trees and the sway of branches above our heads. I cannot evade the fact that the moments were there. Everything was happening naturally. Looking back on it all, I cannot blame time and nature for the way things turned out for the both of us. It was you. You never seized the moment. Not because you did not love me, but because you were afraid to. Now, whenever I walk down the street we live on and pass your house, I wonder if you know that you’re just a block away from completing destiny.

In one minute it is going to be your birthday. I feel a little bit odd that I’m eight months older than you are. It may not be a huge gap in age, but it feels like a long distance from where we both stand. Fate has a funny way of separating our humanly desires. We both long for the same thing and yet this distance that stretches between us each passing day, keeps getting pulling up apart. We’re like two parallel lines, extending ourselves into infinity but never being able to touch or meet… Happy birthday. As a present, you can keep the memories I shared with you closed up in a neatly wrapped box.

It was my first assignment as a reporter for the paper and I was eager to sink my teeth into my story. I contacted the president of the Junior class and scheduled an interview with her at the school library. I walked into the video room with an air of confidence, carrying around a tape recorder to get the whole story in its entirety. I was doing well, with my chin up and my shoulders back, and I was dressed stylishly fit to sophistication. The tape was rolling and everything was going well.

Coming through the threshold of the doorway, you walked in with the same air of confidence and your face had a goofy grin imprinted on it. You looked pleasantly surprised to see your friend talking to someone completely new and the rush of excitement on your face was not hard to mistake. Instantly, the room was buzzing with a different kind of energy as you asked your friend who the girl with the tape recorder was. Instead of her answering, I introduced myself. You smiled. I reciprocated. You asked if I could interview you. I told you that you weren’t remarkable enough. There was a pause. Your eyes stared into mine as we sent hidden messages in their lucid wake. Your friend cleared her throat and told you to get out. You laughed and smiled at me before backing out of the room. Your friend cast me a knowing look and shook her head. She pointed at the tape recorder. It was still recording.

I found myself listening to the tape today as I was cleaning my room. Rather than listening to Animal Collective, I listened to the crackling of sound as it circles round the tape. I listened to your voice and knew when you were smiling. When you were grinning.

And then the pause.

I did not realize at the time just how long that pause was. To me it seemed like only a split second because every moment spent with you went by quickly, but after hearing it all and listening to how we met and the images rolling like film in my mind, I knew how long that pause was. I looked down at the tape recorder.

Three minutes.

That’s how long we were staring at each other and not saying a word.

In those three minutes, I knew that the feeling was mutual and I swear we loved.

It has been a while and though I cannot see you, you never disappeared from my heart. The excitement, the rush that used to spread throughout my body may have died away, but there is a feeling that lies in the deepest regions of my heart. The kind of feeling that brings an ache of melancholy and comfort. The kind of feeling that goes beyond the beginnings of infatuation and past the walls of something more…

June 16

Everything reminds me of you these days. No matter how much I attempt to chase thoughts of you out of my mind, your presence is prominent. The slight breeze reminds me of the soft pads of your fingertips trailing across my porcelain face. Rays of sunlight cascade from the skies and remind me of your warmth. I have never taken account of these things before. The wind was just the wind. The sun was just the sun. Oddly enough, I never took account of you when I had the chance. I noticed a little too late, but the thought of you makes my mind weep with regret because now I stand in awe of these simple, seemingly insignificant wonders.