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It used to be so easy,
I never even tried
.”

After the plane took off I looked out the window back at where I pictured you being, squinting my eyes from the glare of the mid-day sun. I replayed the night before, the unexpected kiss between us, and the passion that quickly followed. We had wound up in the water, our bodies entwined, as the middle of the night moon reflected us as shadows on the surface. He had whispered to me a suggestion of a change of venue, and I followed without words, wet hands held with criss-crossed fingers. For a moment I thought to myself I would follow him anywhere.

The door to his room was unlocked. We stumbled into the room in an exchange of nervous laughter, the room still and dark and sticky hot with the cloying heat of the last days of Summer. There was a sudden fear that crept inside of me, fueled by the silence, the walls, and a rush of panic. I looked in his eyes and felt a shiver so deep that I thought I might collapse. There was too much there that I saw, in him, in myself, in us together. For the first time in my life I stood facing something I did not think I could survive losing, something I could not imagine could sustain in my life (cue the chorus of insecurities and self-doubt taking up the alto and soprano parts, singing to me so loud I could hear nothing else).

I was sure I already loved you far too much.

Excuses were made, clumsily, and as I crept back down the hall and into the elevator tears stung at my eyes. The next day my plane ticket told me it was time to go home.

So there I was, my grand escape I didn’t want to make, craning my neck for one last glimpse out of one of those tiny windows. I’m not sure what I hoped to see, whether it was that boy chasing after the plane, me pleading for the pilot to turn it around, or for some kind of visual proof that any of it had happened at all. I felt the tears threaten to fall again and I swallowed them back hard. I tried to console myself with the truth that I would see him again, that I would have another chance, that I had time to learn to be brave. Or perhaps he would forget me, and I him, and life would just go on. The latter was hard to convince myself of, but I have always been stubborn and strong, strong enough to fight back those tears…but not the regrets.

The Last Day of Summer (live) :: The Cure

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