It Still Hurts

Oh, Alex.

I remember our romance so well, don't you? I mean, I'm not bitter at you, or anything, of course I'm not. I could never be. You're too innocent and loving, sweet and caring for me to even be mad at. I can’t be mad at you. I could never be mad at you.

But you remember it, right? Our romance? It was an epic one, like Hazel and Gus, and Jack and Sally, and Victor and Emily. Like me and Home Alone. It was unbreakable, our love. Wasn't it? Wasn't that what you told me since I formally asked you to be my boyfriend in sophomore year? Alex, when I asked you out, you cried. I thought I had messed up big time. I couldn't fix that, could I? Then you were telling me yes, you were telling me you loved me so much, and you were crying into my shoulder with happy tears, telling me you thought that I would never ask. That was sophomore year, Alex, and we’re twenty-six now. You’re almost twenty-seven, and the last time I saw you was my birthday. That was in June. It’s almost October now.

I don't know why I’m writing you this, Alex. I guess I just want to remind you of what we were, what I was to you, and what you are to me. I don't even know for sure that you'll read this, but these thoughts have been in my head for so long that they're hurting. They're pounding on my brain and they want out, so this is what’s becoming of it. I guess you could say that this is the story of our romance.

So, here goes.

After we became a real couple, I can't remember a time when we were apart for more than forty-eight hours. We rearranged our schedules so we could walk to all our classes together, remember? I remember when we had chemistry together. You kept making jokes, saying we had chemistry together, and you weren't just talking about the class. Then you’d wink and bump your hip on mine, and I'd spill whatever chemicals we were working with. I loved chemistry class, but I'm pretty sure that you're the reason I ended up failing it.

In our junior year, we went to prom together. Or, we almost did. Remember, we paid at the door, as a couple? And then the staff told us we couldn't go in because we were a same sex couple. Wasn't that bullshit, Alex? I remember how upset you were. You were really looking forward to prom. I remember you wouldn't stop crying, couldn't believe how much money you spent on asking me (though I still would have been more than happy with a simple ‘will you go to prom with me?’), couldn't believe how expensive your suit was. I remember I held you the rest of the night, and we slow danced in your kitchen in our pajamas. Your mom still has pictures of it. It was one of my favorite nights, despite the disaster that came with it.

Senior year and we were still together. People accepted us when we went public with our relationship, and you were so, so happy about it. I remember you shaking people’s hands and thanking them for their support, and I remember the way our families clapped and told us they were happy for us. I remember how the smile reached your eyes when my mother told you how happy she was that I had someone with such a great sense of self, such a great deal of common sense, how good of an influence you were on me. You had called my mom your mother-in-law from the start, and I honestly thought that I could've made it real, Alex. I wanted to marry you so bad. But we were just teenagers, we had our whole lives ahead of us, and a world to take over. On the night we graduated, we lost our virginity to each other. I remember that you kept telling me that you were saving yourself for me, that this was going to be perfect, just like me, and I kept saying, no, just like you, but you wouldn't listen. And it was perfect, and you were perfect. Hell, Alex. You are perfect, you're perfect still.

Fast forward to your twenty third birthday. You had too much to drink and you kept saying, don't leave me, Jacky, don’t leave me. I sat with you as you hurled and hurled and hurled and I don't think I ever saw a person throw up that much. Ever. In my entire life. But you handled it so well, and you fell asleep so softly on my lap. You told me you loved me as I fell asleep. Those words still ring in my head in your voice to this day, Alex. I don’t ever want to stop hearing you tell me you love me.

But of course, like the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. I didn't want our love to come to an end, but it seemed like you did. You met a guy named Kyle at a party. I think his last name is Burns, I can't remember. That’s one thing I can’t remember. I can't even remember his face.

I was going to ask you to marry me, you know? I had it all planned out, I had the ring and everything. But I remember every time I texted you and asked you if you wanted to go out to dinner, you replied with, no, sorry, with Kyle, and the occasional, love you. The love you’s all but stopped as soon as you met Kyle. And so every time you said no to going out to dinner, I had to push my proposal plans off by one day, and then days turned into weeks, and months.

I should have seen it coming. I should have seen how you were so much happier with him than you ever were with me, I should have seen the way he put his arms around you and kissed your temples, and I should have said something, I should have stood my ground. But I didn’t, Alex, because I knew you were happy and that’s all I ever want. All I ever want is for you to be happy. Even if it wasn't with me. Your happiness ranks over me, always.

Sometimes I see you in the grocery store. You look thinner than you did, maybe you dropped a pant size. Your hair is shorter and lighter now, but it looks really good on you, Alex, you look so good lately.

But, yeah. It still hurts to know you’re not alone.

But that’s okay, because you’re happy, or at least the last I knew, you were happy, are happy. Just know that I always think about you, even when you don’t think about me anymore, okay?

Oh, Alex. I wish I could text you and tell you I love you.

But you changed your number and I knew it was the end.