Don't Write Me Off

......John O'Callaghan and I had been best friends since the first grade, and to say we were inseparable was an understatement; you'd never catch either of us without the other. In fact, he and I spent more time together than we did with our own families. We shared countless sleepovers, formals, spring break road trips, summer vacations at my family's cabin by the lake, Fourth of July barbecues at his house, lame jokes, and so on. Wherever we went and whatever we did, we were at each other's side.

Naturally, our friendship had turned into a relationship the night of the Homecoming Dance junior year and that made our bond nearly unbreakable. I loved him and he loved me and I thought we were going to be together forever. Everyone constantly compared us to that clichéd best-friends-falling-in-love story. But his passion for music slowly drove a wedge between us by the beginning of my senior year at the University of Texas, and everything I did to prevent our eventual, ultimate break-up failed. Even before we began dating, I knew how much making music with his friends meant to John and I tried to be patient, but it never failed that The Maine and their fans always came before me. I saw less and less of him as the band's popularity grew and before I knew it, there was no more room for me in his life.

I had flown back to Tempe in the middle of October for our sixth year anniversary and he couldn't be bothered to make time in his busy recording schedule to spend a measly three hours with me. That night I wrote him a note that said we were over, flew back to Austin the next day, and I never looked back. It took all the strength I had in me to not answer the flood of calls, texts, and letters that came afterwards. It broke my heart even more to know that I was suddenly so important to him once I was no longer available to him. John was my first serious boyfriend and although it's been nearly four years, it still hurts as much as it did the day I walked away. I truly believed he was the one for me.

I gasped quietly and quickly gripped onto the armrests, feeling the wheels beneath me part with the runway and the Boeing 777 tip upward into the clear blue sky. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm my ever growing nerves. It's not like I was afraid of heights or flying. I was just so lost in my bundle of thoughts that I hadn't realized the plane began moving. The trip was nonstop and would barely last two hours; not much time for me to prepare for what lay ahead.

The large aircraft was cruising westward as the bright yellow sun glimmering from outside the window caught the reflection of the small square-cut diamond ring twiddling between my quivering fingers. John had proposed the night of graduation and although I had hesitated at first because we were just kids, there was no doubt in my mind of how much I loved him and wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. Every little gift he had given me I returned almost immediately, except his ring. I held onto it all these years, not entirely ready to say goodbye. And although I'm still not ready now, it was time to let go. Maybe then I'll start to hurt less and less.

I slipped the ring safely back in the box it came in, placed the box in the cell phone pouch of my peach-colored Kate Spade purse, and held my breath as my eyes caught the large white envelope tucked in between the matching wallet and Victoria's Secret beauty bag.

I slowly took the envelope out and stared at it for a good five minutes before sliding out the large pearl card with beautiful floral printing. Holding the card in both hands, I gently folded the front back and silently read the caligraphic contents one last time because up until now, reality still hadn't sink in.



Closing the card, I inhaled sharply and tried to calm my trembling body.

In less than five months, I was getting married.