Maybe Memories

It’s funny, really. I never imagined you’d have your own chapter. After all, you were just some silly crush I had in seventh grade. But now I see, three years later, you’re much more than that.

I can remember the very first thing you ever said to me, and you probably can’t even remember my name.

I was wearing my Jackass converse, with the red and black checkered laces I put in them. You came over to me and said you liked my shoelaces, because you were wearing the same ones on your beat up converse.

That was the first time we ever talked. But you were on my mind for a long time after that, even before we became “friends”.

I remember how short you were, and I thought it was cute.

I remember the exact shade of your eyes. So blue, such a wonderful shade of azure.

I remembered that little smirk you gave me. That small little curve of the lips in a joking matter.

I remembered that bright green shirt you were wearing, and your pair of black skinny jeans.

I remember I kept thinking about you, at random times. Never fully there, just a fleeting thought every now and again.

I remember when David used to come to the lunch table I shared with Becky, so he could talk to her. I remember you used to come to, because David was your best friend.

And then, finally when David and you moved to our table after the first few weeks of school, I had a reason to think about you. I thought of how funny you were and all the little jokes you said before I went to bed. I thought of how nice you were, but still crazy and wild before I went to bed. I thought of how cute you were, and how I was beginning to get more and more interested in you every night before bed.

It came to a point after that when I couldn’t deny it anymore. I had a crush on you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and no matter you always made me smile. I was suddenly so happy to be best friends with Becky, because I know that’s the only reason you even talked to me.

I hated Liz for no other reason besides she was your girlfriend.

I knew that you and I would never happen. You were a year older than me, gorgeous, semi-popular, funnier than me, and just all around brilliant. I was average, awkward, nervous, ugly and fat. I knew that there wasn’t a chance in Hell for me. And I also knew that if you ever found out, you’d hate me or think I was weird or stupid. So I told no one.

Until it became painfully obvious that I liked you, and all my friends figured it out. I gave up denying.

I asked you what CD I should ask Tyler for on my birthday. You always listened to so many awesome bands, and could play guitar like a god. You told me to get “Plauges” by The Devil Wears Prada, your favorite band.

So I got it, and I loved it. It turned me on to the world of death core, screamo, hardcore. You helped me find Bring Me The Horizon, my second favorite band ever. So made me want to play guitar. So I took it up, and it turned out to be something I loved.

When Jericha, one of my best friends at the time, turned my heartfelt confession about Lisa against me and call me a liar, you were there. I was going to kill her for that, for saying that I made up my best friend’s suicide just so I could look “closer” to Avenged Sevenfold than her. She disrespected the dead. She disrespected the one person that literally meant everything for me. But when you saw that I was getting ready to knock her out, you pulled me aside, sat me down in the grass, pull out my guitar and played “Jack and Sally’s song” to me. You sat there and played me the entire song until Jericha left. You stayed with me until I was alright.

After that, well I was pretty much yours. I liked you more than anyone I have in my entire life, because unlike everyone else you were there for me. I could even say that I was in love with you.

But when I decided it was best Lily, Becky and I were no longer friends, they told you everything. The reason I stopped being friends with them is because they admitted to never caring about me. And well, I guess that was true. Jericha wrote me a letter and along with horrible awful things, she always said “Connor and David know EVERYTHING!!! They hate you, too”

And I knew you did. I switched back into my old lunch and sat with my back-up friends in case you guys didn’t work out. It was disgusting, when I used the people that were there for me as back-up friends, the people who are still here after I treated them like filth. If we passed each other in the hallways, you acted like you didn’t even know who I was.

I didn’t stop thinking about you for a long time, but eventually I forced myself to never to think about you. Finally, I thought I could move on fine. I dated Will, and even did what I did with Dan(We’ll get to him later). But they both ended. And I felt disgusted by both of them, what I did with them. I never knew why. With Will, I thought it’s just because I couldn’t never do that with a man. That I only wanted to be with women. That wasn’t true and eventually, I hooked up with Dan. A week or two later, I felt disgusted by what I did with him. I didn’t know why I started out liking them, but in the end I was repulsed by them.

Then, I realized it was just because they weren’t you.

I realized that I never did get over you, never stopped thinking about you in the back of my mind. I still thought of you when anyone mentioned The Devil Wears Prada, or when I heard a skate-board coming down my street like you used to. Whenever I walked by your house, thousands of memories popped up. I remember always thinking about where you were and what you were doing when I was alone at night. I always wondered--and guessed--that you completely forgot about me.

I remember when we started going to the same school again, and I saw you in the hallways. I would always look at you and see how you changed, how you didn’t. You got taller. You still wore that green tee-shirt you were wearing when you talked to me for the first time. You’re in a band. Stuff like that.

But you would always just pass right by like you never knew me. One time you caught me staring. You just stared back at me, like looking into the eyes of a stranger and wondering why they’re looking at you.

I still think about you every night before I go to bed. More so now, more than ever.

I still remember the exact shade of blue that are your eyes. But now I’m just wishing they wouldn’t look back at me so apathetic, unknowing, uncaring.