That summer was unforgettable. I learned a lot about myself, how the world works, and of course, about love. Ryan never called back. He left me with no explaination. For the longest time I blamed myself. Did I try and rush things? Did we loose the magic back at that old church parking lot? Was I being too analytical? Nazarath hit the nail on the head-Love Hurts.
As I said, I wrote many unadressed letters to him. Letters letting him know what he meant to me and how he pissed all of my feelings about love away. In these letters, I said how I loved him and hated him all in the same breath. Every night I wished that I just had one more day with him, heck I would be satisfied with just one more minute with him...To be in his arms....and one cold day in November, I got my wish.
It was late November 1998. My brother, Zach, and I decided to go Christmas Shopping at the mall. We had it all planned out. First we would hit Sears and buy Dad a new set of tools. Next, we would hit up the bookstore to go buy my mom her annual golden retriever calendar. As we headed for Sears, we noticed that a kiosk of calendars had been set up. That was perfect! We could just pick up the calendar here and be on our merry way.
We began sifting through the calendars. Then Zach noticed him.
"Alison, look behind the checkout counter!" He whispered. "Want me to go kick his ass?"
I looked up, and there he was. It was the guy I had shared my world with. It was the guy that I fell in love with. It was the guy who ripped out my heart and threw it in the garbage (side note--great episode of The Simpsons!). It was the guy I wanted to tear a new asshole!
I gripped my knuckles so hard they turned white. I began to clench my jaw. It was rather endearing that my 13 year old brother wanted to stand up for his big sister, but this was a war I had to take on myself.
With calendar in hand, My brother and I sauntered up to the checkout line at the kiosk. When it was our turn, I threw it down.
"Alison?" he questioned.
"Yeah, remember me?" I questioned in a stern voice.
"Of course."
I then told my brother to go step to the side and cover his ears.
"Well, just to let you know, you're the biggest fucking asshole I ever met. You never called. You didn't do anything."
Heads started to turn. A couple people backed out of the line.
"I emailed you." he quietly said.
"If you wanted to dump me, why didn't you man up and do it in person?"
At this time I was infuriated. I wanted to tear up that stupid kiosk station. I wanted to punch him, yet, I wanted to kiss him.
"Alison, please go away."
"I am leaving because I'm done, not because you told me to. Have a nice fucking day!"
I got my brother and briskly walked away. My throat started to swell up and tears welled in my eyes. I did not want my brother to see me so upset. I tried not to talk. The man I fell in love with, the man I wanted to give my all to, just told me to "go away." I was heartbroken, but I still loved him.
I had a nice weeked of seculsion. I just sat and cried. It's what I needed. I got my answers. He wanted me to "Go away."
I never forgot that summer we spent together.
It seems like no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget about him. I would see him every now and then, and it just brought back the memories. These memories were no longer happy, they were painful. I figured once I got to college, I would undoubtedly never run into him again. This was not the case. He worked in the main library on campus! Every time I saw him behind the desk, I would fantasize that after all this time he really loved me and wanted to take me back. One day, I got incredibly brave and left a note on his car. A few days later, he came up to me and accused me of keying his car. I decided just to avoid him at all cost.
I eventually let him go. I decided that I did not need love to make me happy. Just as I decided that I was going to give the idea of falling in love again a break, I met Hardin Butcher, a jazz musician who was working towards his Masters Degree. Hardin and I were instantly drawn to each other, and I fell head over heels in love, but that's another blog.
The Valentine's Day after I met Hardin, I ran into Ryan at the library. We chatted and caught up with each other. We both apologized to each other. He said he had something for me.
He pulled out a hand made white flower and said, "Happy Valentine's Day."
They say white is the color of friendship and peace. I am now able to look back on that year with no hard feelings, just the memories of youth and young love.
