Status: I will update once a day as long as I am not swamped with homework and cosmetology
What I Wish I Could Confess
The Man Who's Name I Will Forget
Darling, Oh Dear, of mine.
That's what I used to call you. I remember when we first met, I was 14 and you were 17. You were amazing and everything I could've wanted. But not at 14, not when you were so ready to get serious so fast. So I broke up with you after a month, a week, and four days. But we still talked on and off and you were the one person I always ran back to, never able to completely lose my feelings for you. I was 16 when I gave you the last bit of innocence I had, the rest of it lost after Derek hurt me at 15. You told me you loved and I fell in love with you when you stayed, even though you could have just hit and quit it. You were the first person in my life to stay. And that meant everything to me. We weren't together, just in love at the wrong time. You didn't want to be serious anymore, you just wanted to have fun. And at 16, I shouldn't have been so concerned with being serious. We fought, a lot and stopped talking on and off when I said I couldn't do it anymore. But I always, always ran back to you. I missed you too much to stay away. I didn't know then that just because you miss someone, doesn't mean you should go back to them. But I was so broken after Derek, and you made me feel whole again; fixed. And then we actually were a couple again when I was 17 and things were so great. We were happy. Do you remember that? Because I do and I wish I could forget how happy you made me feel. But I can't and I hate it. My 17th birthday was the best birthday I've ever had so far because I was with you. You, me, Mark, Drew, and Austin crammed into Mark's little shitty car with me on your lap. We were going to Little Falls and I don't even remember why anymore. But we were high and Mark and Drew were drunk, you probably were too and I just never realized how much you drank back then. Mark, being a show off decided to take a back road going about 80 maybe more, it was sharp corners and bumpy but I loved it. I loved going fast. And we blew Mark's engine, but we made it to a main road at least after letting his engine cool down for a little bit. Some random guy gave us a ride home which was really nice of him. You walked me home and I still remember how in love with you I was.
It seemed like we were great until our town flooded. Your entire first floor was ruined, everything floated away with the waters. My house was fine for the most part, a few things we had to get rid of and we had to move but that's because our landlord is a piece of shit who wasn't going to replace the floors that were warping. But you came to check on me, even though you had it worse. God, I loved that side of you. I stayed at my grandparent's house for a week and that entire week we missed each other like crazy even though I stopped by to see you everyday after we finished packing things up for the day.
And then I stayed with you and your family at the Motel for a day and I had Mangos for the first time ever. And your father, being crazy about always having food, cooked shrimp, steak, and all the goods. And we watched TV in your motel room that you shared with your brother, but he was at work. A movie trailer came on and you said you'd take me to the movies sometime if I wanted. We never did get that chance though.
It seemed like after that night, everything began to change. You were more distant and more involved with getting drunk with your friends than bothering to text me a simple, "My day was good, I love you too." The rumor that I was going to dump you for a day to go on a date with Josh got around and you believed it. And of all people, Josh? Really? I couldn't stand him, he was always pissing me off. And while you were ignoring me for 3 weeks, I started hanging out with someone who made me realize that you weren't treating me the way I deserved. Not once in the 3 years that I'd known you had you ever told me I was pretty. Self-esteem killer right there. And we broke up. And I burned your flannel, all the love stories I'd started but never finished about you, and I told you I sold your switch blade that you gave me. My mom ended up giving it back to you though because she's a traitor.
We hated each other for a while, but like always, we found our way back to each other. It took a year this time but we found each other again. My mom kicked me out after a few months of us talking, I was staying with Austin, which you were pretty uptight about. "Why didn't you come to me if you needed a place to stay?" Well, probably because when Neal told you, you laughed. That's not exactly an invitation. But we discussed it, and I discussed it with your parents who agreed to let me live there for as long as I wanted. Your father absolutely adored me. Things were great again, except when you'd leave to go party and not return until the next day. The one time you came home with a hickey on your neck that I know wasn't from me because you're the one person who I couldn't give a hickey to. It just never worked. But I didn't flip out on you, I let it go. Then you started texting your ex girlfriend who told you her baby might be yours. It wasn't but still... Kinda messed up. And I flipped out on both of you, she had no business saying she'd come visit with her baby after she had it. It wasn't yours. You weren't with her anymore and you guys weren't even friends before you dated.
We ended things, again. But I still lived there and we still shared a room. The room where we used to stay up until the crack of dawn confessing things we'd never told anyone before. The room that you came home after partying one night, laying on the mattress on the floor, letting me have the real bed; and told me you missed me even though that time you had ended things between us over stupid shit. And I said I missed you too. And we cuddled for a little bit and then you returned to your mattress. But you told me that you'd always be here for me no matter what. What complete bullshit that I believed at the time. We eventually made up and things were good again. You were loving, and fun, playful even.
You drank all the time and it never bothered me until I realized, I was watching you kill yourself. You were an alcohol, the same as both of your parents. I didn't realize it at first because you were angry drunks, you just drank and drank and drank until you passed out. But worse than watching you kill yourself, I was helping you. You'd ask me to make you drinks all the time and I did. Because it made you happy that I'd do that for you, the simplest task ever. I can't forgive myself for that.
But I can't forgive you either. That night. The night. We got into a fight over when I was allowed to shower according to you which was bullshit. And you wouldn't get out of my face so I pushed you away from me and then you started throwing me around like i weighed absolutely nothing. That was the first and last time you touched me like that. The last time you touched me at all actually because you officially broke up with me the next day, telling me I had until the weekend to get all of my stuff out. I called Chris to pick me up and he did. I was a mess that night, I couldn't stop crying and even when he got me high, all I could feel was pain throughout my body and my heart was shattered.
I left the next day, I told my school what happened because I had to tell someone. They called my mom and she and a cop came with me to collect my belongings. I cried the entire time I packed, rummaging through drawers as fast as I could but it was hard when my vision was blurred from tears that wouldn't stop pouring out. The worst part was seeing Fred by the door, waiting happily to be walked by me like I normally would after coming home from school. I was gonna miss him so much. Your mom hugged me, apologizing for everything and it was so hard saying goodbye. I gave her a letter for you, a goodbye letter but I doubt you even read it. You probably burned it in a fire that night after work.
I admit, I took your flannel, a pair of your boxers, a bracelet of yours, and your pipe. I wear your flannel when it's cold at night to bed, and always wear your boxers to bed. It made falling asleep without you a little bit easier. Maybe I went insane. Pretending that you were next to me still and that we were happy, like nothing had happened to make things come to this. But then I woke up one day and said fuck it. Who cares if it didn't work out, I'm young and I have my whole life ahead of me. But I cared anyways, just in secret. I pretended like the pain was gone and I was okay but honestly, I was just killing myself every chance I got. I was smoking more, and partying every weekend, anything to be numb. Anything to forget about you.
I didn't just lose you that night, the love of my life that built me up to destroy me all over again. I lost the family I had always wanted to have, the family I knew I'd never get back. I lost myself and I hope I never find me again.
I'm going to continue to drink away the memories, smoke until I'm so high that I don't even remember my name. And I will, someday, forget your name.
That's what I used to call you. I remember when we first met, I was 14 and you were 17. You were amazing and everything I could've wanted. But not at 14, not when you were so ready to get serious so fast. So I broke up with you after a month, a week, and four days. But we still talked on and off and you were the one person I always ran back to, never able to completely lose my feelings for you. I was 16 when I gave you the last bit of innocence I had, the rest of it lost after Derek hurt me at 15. You told me you loved and I fell in love with you when you stayed, even though you could have just hit and quit it. You were the first person in my life to stay. And that meant everything to me. We weren't together, just in love at the wrong time. You didn't want to be serious anymore, you just wanted to have fun. And at 16, I shouldn't have been so concerned with being serious. We fought, a lot and stopped talking on and off when I said I couldn't do it anymore. But I always, always ran back to you. I missed you too much to stay away. I didn't know then that just because you miss someone, doesn't mean you should go back to them. But I was so broken after Derek, and you made me feel whole again; fixed. And then we actually were a couple again when I was 17 and things were so great. We were happy. Do you remember that? Because I do and I wish I could forget how happy you made me feel. But I can't and I hate it. My 17th birthday was the best birthday I've ever had so far because I was with you. You, me, Mark, Drew, and Austin crammed into Mark's little shitty car with me on your lap. We were going to Little Falls and I don't even remember why anymore. But we were high and Mark and Drew were drunk, you probably were too and I just never realized how much you drank back then. Mark, being a show off decided to take a back road going about 80 maybe more, it was sharp corners and bumpy but I loved it. I loved going fast. And we blew Mark's engine, but we made it to a main road at least after letting his engine cool down for a little bit. Some random guy gave us a ride home which was really nice of him. You walked me home and I still remember how in love with you I was.
It seemed like we were great until our town flooded. Your entire first floor was ruined, everything floated away with the waters. My house was fine for the most part, a few things we had to get rid of and we had to move but that's because our landlord is a piece of shit who wasn't going to replace the floors that were warping. But you came to check on me, even though you had it worse. God, I loved that side of you. I stayed at my grandparent's house for a week and that entire week we missed each other like crazy even though I stopped by to see you everyday after we finished packing things up for the day.
And then I stayed with you and your family at the Motel for a day and I had Mangos for the first time ever. And your father, being crazy about always having food, cooked shrimp, steak, and all the goods. And we watched TV in your motel room that you shared with your brother, but he was at work. A movie trailer came on and you said you'd take me to the movies sometime if I wanted. We never did get that chance though.
It seemed like after that night, everything began to change. You were more distant and more involved with getting drunk with your friends than bothering to text me a simple, "My day was good, I love you too." The rumor that I was going to dump you for a day to go on a date with Josh got around and you believed it. And of all people, Josh? Really? I couldn't stand him, he was always pissing me off. And while you were ignoring me for 3 weeks, I started hanging out with someone who made me realize that you weren't treating me the way I deserved. Not once in the 3 years that I'd known you had you ever told me I was pretty. Self-esteem killer right there. And we broke up. And I burned your flannel, all the love stories I'd started but never finished about you, and I told you I sold your switch blade that you gave me. My mom ended up giving it back to you though because she's a traitor.
We hated each other for a while, but like always, we found our way back to each other. It took a year this time but we found each other again. My mom kicked me out after a few months of us talking, I was staying with Austin, which you were pretty uptight about. "Why didn't you come to me if you needed a place to stay?" Well, probably because when Neal told you, you laughed. That's not exactly an invitation. But we discussed it, and I discussed it with your parents who agreed to let me live there for as long as I wanted. Your father absolutely adored me. Things were great again, except when you'd leave to go party and not return until the next day. The one time you came home with a hickey on your neck that I know wasn't from me because you're the one person who I couldn't give a hickey to. It just never worked. But I didn't flip out on you, I let it go. Then you started texting your ex girlfriend who told you her baby might be yours. It wasn't but still... Kinda messed up. And I flipped out on both of you, she had no business saying she'd come visit with her baby after she had it. It wasn't yours. You weren't with her anymore and you guys weren't even friends before you dated.
We ended things, again. But I still lived there and we still shared a room. The room where we used to stay up until the crack of dawn confessing things we'd never told anyone before. The room that you came home after partying one night, laying on the mattress on the floor, letting me have the real bed; and told me you missed me even though that time you had ended things between us over stupid shit. And I said I missed you too. And we cuddled for a little bit and then you returned to your mattress. But you told me that you'd always be here for me no matter what. What complete bullshit that I believed at the time. We eventually made up and things were good again. You were loving, and fun, playful even.
You drank all the time and it never bothered me until I realized, I was watching you kill yourself. You were an alcohol, the same as both of your parents. I didn't realize it at first because you were angry drunks, you just drank and drank and drank until you passed out. But worse than watching you kill yourself, I was helping you. You'd ask me to make you drinks all the time and I did. Because it made you happy that I'd do that for you, the simplest task ever. I can't forgive myself for that.
But I can't forgive you either. That night. The night. We got into a fight over when I was allowed to shower according to you which was bullshit. And you wouldn't get out of my face so I pushed you away from me and then you started throwing me around like i weighed absolutely nothing. That was the first and last time you touched me like that. The last time you touched me at all actually because you officially broke up with me the next day, telling me I had until the weekend to get all of my stuff out. I called Chris to pick me up and he did. I was a mess that night, I couldn't stop crying and even when he got me high, all I could feel was pain throughout my body and my heart was shattered.
I left the next day, I told my school what happened because I had to tell someone. They called my mom and she and a cop came with me to collect my belongings. I cried the entire time I packed, rummaging through drawers as fast as I could but it was hard when my vision was blurred from tears that wouldn't stop pouring out. The worst part was seeing Fred by the door, waiting happily to be walked by me like I normally would after coming home from school. I was gonna miss him so much. Your mom hugged me, apologizing for everything and it was so hard saying goodbye. I gave her a letter for you, a goodbye letter but I doubt you even read it. You probably burned it in a fire that night after work.
I admit, I took your flannel, a pair of your boxers, a bracelet of yours, and your pipe. I wear your flannel when it's cold at night to bed, and always wear your boxers to bed. It made falling asleep without you a little bit easier. Maybe I went insane. Pretending that you were next to me still and that we were happy, like nothing had happened to make things come to this. But then I woke up one day and said fuck it. Who cares if it didn't work out, I'm young and I have my whole life ahead of me. But I cared anyways, just in secret. I pretended like the pain was gone and I was okay but honestly, I was just killing myself every chance I got. I was smoking more, and partying every weekend, anything to be numb. Anything to forget about you.
I didn't just lose you that night, the love of my life that built me up to destroy me all over again. I lost the family I had always wanted to have, the family I knew I'd never get back. I lost myself and I hope I never find me again.
I'm going to continue to drink away the memories, smoke until I'm so high that I don't even remember my name. And I will, someday, forget your name.
♠ ♠ ♠
This was really hard to write, and I left out a lot of details from times when we were happy, and the times when we were bad, but the important things are there. The love I thought we had, the life we shared for 6 months, and the way things ended all because of a fucking shower.