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Nineteen

Present

I have maybe an hour before the girls arrive at my house.

Flash gives me a pitying look from the porch. I let him inside. I slide the drawer of the console table open and pull the letter from it. Just one more peek. Just something to quell the emotions building in me.

I’ve purposefully been sticking to the best moments. Partly because we didn’t have many worst ones. But it’s worth mentioning that even in the direct path of a curve ball, you took the hit and kept on.

In our absence from each other I feel it necessary to stress that I did not know.

I didn’t.

I’ve told you before, but whether or not you believe me evades me. I didn’t know. I’m still shocked. You blew up my world in my brother’s backyard. My entire childhood was a lie. A fallacy.

But it wasn’t just me was it? Your world imploded too. What are the odds of us having a connection like that? Do you believe in serendipity? I clung to you, or needed to in that time, but you…you pushed me away.

Almost as if the very thought of me repulsed you.

I am not pointing fingers or placing blame. It was an impossible situation to be thrust into. But in that moment, I reached for you, and you leaned away.

Fuck.

Tears well in my eyes, blurring his words. I blink until it stops. It has to, I need it to stop. Holding my breath like that is ruinous.

As lost and out of control as I felt, in our short time together, he rearranged everything. He is still always on my mind as if he wrote his name on the inner walls of me.