"Love’s a fucking bitch.
Do I really need another habit like you?”
New Order - Temptation
The Cure - Boys Don’t Cry
She always tells me that the people worth being in your life will find a way back to you. And oh, how happy I am that she’s nestled back into the empty space in my soul that seemed to be waiting for her arrival.
Brains have a funny way of coping with things. Regret has a funny way of eating away at you. I wished for a long time that things had happened differently. That I hadn’t said those words, written her off so rudely, and cut off that chapter in my life so quickly. But now, these so so many years later, things are good. And maybe they wouldn’t have been if we hadn’t spent those quiet years finding out that love and life are fucking tough.
I fell in love with my best friend when I was 14. She was a senior, the college days soon approaching, taking her a thousand miles away from me. I wasn’t one for best friends, she seemed to fulfill the role in a different way than most others tried. We watched bad tv together, found swing sets late at night, and had joy riding driving lessons far before I ever had a license.
We were opposite. She was a jock. Soccer. Hard core. All the time. Her usual uniform of sambas and track jackets. I went to an alternative art school. A usual uniform of ripped up chucks and ironic tees. No one quite understand us. I’m not sure we did either. But we didn’t care.
College crept up. She left. We emailed every day. And it was shortly after she left that I came home to a confession.
True, raw love. Religion, fucking us up like it always had. Her tuition, reputation, friendships, at risk. My naive brain not even comprehending the fact that maybe it was okay or even possible to like a girl. It couldn’t be possible because that wasn’t normal.
I shut her out. Silence. She dropped out of school. I graduated and left. Our lives drifted. We experienced good, bad, ugly. Social media the only thing ever keeping us distantly aware that each other still existed.
Ghosts. I saw her face in people I met. Her mannerisms in strangers hands at bars and parties. She crossed my mind in drunken stupors and drug deranged dazes. I missed her, but the timing wasn’t right. So much shit had happened in between. How could we ever catch up to one another?
I found her again. 8 years of silence. Imperfect pasts, with hopes for better futures, we met up and talked about life and love. The delusions of religious damnation no longer clouding my vision. Sitting in that crowded bar, dim lights, loud music, she was the only person clearly in focus. She told me, “In my darkest of times I reminded myself that the people worth being in my life would find a way back.”
And oh, how happy I am that she’s nestled back into the empty space in my soul that seemed to be waiting for her arrival.