Went over to T’s place and we hung out—just me and about 10 boys—drinking 40s—yelling at the TV. One guy in particular made me laugh. His name was C. Kinda strange lookin’ but with the cutest face: nice eyes and nice lips. Me, C and T were just talking shit and laughing all night. It felt good to be with them, and to forget about everyone else.
I left to meet up with Toby, who took me to some strange park near the lake. There was a chill in the air, but the weather was perfect. Even though it was a total make-out point, I didn’t mind hanging out in his jeep and staring at the stars. We didn’t make out. Closest he came was hugging me. Lots of hand-holding. We talked about our relationship or lack thereof…how different we were. It still felt awkward to be there with him, holding his hand. I kept thinking of really dumb things, lying on the picnic bench, next to his jeep. Like how good he smelled, and how built he was…and that he was, at 28, so much older than me. He was everything I thought he’d never be: considerate, kind, caring, gentle and sweet. He showed me such softness, and I just froze. I was like a mannequin. Around 5am, we were listening to Mazzy Star, and he fell asleep, holding me and holding my hand. I closed my eyes for about 3 minutes and then realized I wasn’t the least bit tired. So I stared out into the darkness of the night—the muted grays and blacks—and watched the dark clouds cover and uncover the yellow moon. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking of M. I was thinking about how far away he seemed. How I was here with Toby, and he was over there without me. I kept remembering things we did, even though I didn’t want to think of him. Even though it was unfair to Toby. The memories just wouldn’t leave my head. I felt peaceful under the stars. In a strange sort of way, even though I was with someone else, I felt completely alone. Just me, the breezy night, and the deceptive moon.
I cried when I got home. It’s finally making sense. He’s not here. He won’t be here. It will never be. I don’t want to let him go, I don’t want to move on, and up until this point, I haven’t because I thought there was a shred of hope that life had made a mistake.
