We lay there together in the dark of the basement, faces lit by the glow of the television. Somehow, we had become an intertwined mess of limbs, unclear where one of us began, and the other ended. I could feel the way your hands pulled me in tightly, but softly as if you were afraid that I would break in your grasp. The popcorn bowl long tossed aside from the beanbag in favor of each other. Feeling the goosebumps on my skin was an intoxicating feeling as your icy hands brushed against the bare skin of my arms. I wanted to kiss you, but something stopped me from committing to it. Your mop of curly brown hair spilled over onto my sea of black, and our eyes were locked. I buried my head deeper into your chest to the point where I could hear your familiar irregular heartbeat. I knew it like it was my own, a home that I had wormed my way into. You had a soft spot for me, didn’t you? Why didn’t I realize it sooner?
On an unassuming night, you admitted to me before that I was a parasite in your head that would not let you live in peace. Corrupting all your thoughts until they all led back to me. I was always in the back of your mind; haunting you. I could say the same, but the sentiment would never align properly. In all honesty, I was able to push you from my brain to avoid the painful soul crushing truth about you. The abundance of words left unsaid for many years echoed loudly in the silence between us. You loved me and I loved you. Years of secret stolen glances and soft touches in hopes the other would not read too much into it. I desperately longed to see me from your point of view. Do you reminisce about the moment that started it all? The ring you playfully slid onto my finger, laughing as you called me your fiancé. My face had grown warm as I nodded along with the joke, but time passed and that became your nickname for me. Looking back, the ring was an excuse, wasn’t it, to call me your fiancé? Yet we continued to deny the intimate bond between you and I in favor of rejecting what we were. It was not the right time. It would never be the right time for us.
We had always lived on borrowed time.
I had sealed our fate by being oblivious to your feelings. By being selfish. I was so fucking selfish. It had never occurred to me that you couldn’t live without me, that you needed me as much as I needed you. Was that ever truly the case? You had moved on or at least I convinced myself you had, so I did too. I could not wait around for someone who never loved me back, especially when it caused so much controversy with my parents. I would never seem to communicate properly, but you had been the one to knock down all those walls, right? You gave me the tools to express how I felt, and I blew it. Did we ever have a fighting chance to begin with? Was this always going to be a losing battle between us?
Maybe I can make a world where we did end up happy together unlike this one. One where there was nothing that could interfere or pull us away like everything always seemed to. Maybe I would be more understanding of you. Maybe I will be able to express my feelings better.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
I am sorry for how it all played out. I hope you don’t miss me at all because it’s not worth beating yourself up over it. I am now just a person you pass by on the street without a second thought. Hurting you is the last thing I had ever wanted to do, but it seemed as though that was the only thing I was good at. I just wanted you to be happy even if that meant it was not with me. The thought that you did not need me always loomed in the back of my mind. It did not matter that you always came running when I was crying or the fact that you had jokingly expressed the desire to kiss me. I was stupid back then. I still am. The “what-ifs” will always be bouncing around my skull as a reminder of what could have been. I pray that the day never comes where I cannot quite seem to remember the way your eyes shine when they gazed upon mine.
Sometimes when everything goes quiet for a moment, I miss you in the overwhelming silence. The once sacred moment where cold meets warmth, unseen by anyone, has now been divided permanently. Many days the weight of carrying our memories together makes it hard to get out of bed. There is a heaviness that sits on my chest waiting for the day I finally get enough courage to remove it. Maybe you feel this way too in the dark of the night where our thoughts consume us. I struggle not to search for you in spaces I know you will be, but sometimes I just hope you will walk past me just so I can see a glimpse of the girl I once knew. The girl you knew is gone now too, but I am not afraid to admit I toss and turn at night trying to hold on to the memories I have of you. Sometimes I can still see it. Visions of you running your hands through my hair while your starry eyes pour into mine.
The wounds you gave me have begun to heal into beautiful scars. I am not afraid to apologize for the scars I left you too. Now the future is just beginning. You were one of the best things that has ever happened to me, yet you are gone now, and no amount of grief will make me open the door again. Maybe in some far-off land we are star-crossed lovers or twin flames that could never be. That would never have been no matter how hard we tried. I still love you. I always will. I hope our souls stay together throughout every lifetime. I hope that in some universe we can be together, but I know it is impossible in this one.
It feels impossible.
It is impossible.
Alaina Floersch is the author of this piece.
Arrow Rock Literary Journal 
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