Personal Crap

There are a series of memories of mine that are fleeting, and every day, they drift further and further away.

In June of 2007, I went on a school-sponsored trip to England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland.

I could tell you about the places, the people, and how amazing it was, but that's for another time.

There were six students total, including me. Since we were such a small group, it's safe to say we grew very close. Some grew closer than others, as was the case with me and another certain someone. Names are irrelevant here.

I don't know if it was the atmosphere. I don't know if it was the stigma of where we were. I don't know what it was, but something happened between us. I felt like we were children, playing in this brand new world, together. I felt like it was just us, everyone else became a blur. I went to sleep thinking about her, and woke up to see her. And I could give a shit at how cliche this all sounds, attraction's like that, I guess.

I had no clue what I was doing. I flew headlong into this experience without a paddle. I didn't know how to talk to her, I didn't know how I was supposed to interact with her, what I was supposed to do. I still don't. But she didn't seem to care. She had loads more experience than me, and it showed. She was taller than me, older than me, the odds were stacked. All that aside, I think she saw something in me. And I was tripping over her, she was so amazing.

She was an angel. She was radiant and glowing. She was mesmerizing to me. I was being bombarded on all sides... I had the most beautiful views in the world outside the bus window, and I had the most beautiful girl in the world in the seat next to me.

But of course, there's a catch. There's always a catch. She was taken. Big surprise. I was too little, too late, as always. I tried to act like it didn't bother me, but it did. It obviously did.

We came back to the sober reality of life in the form of customs agents, cramped vans, and family members greeting us from afar. It was all repulsive, and felt like our dreamworld was being torn away from us. I retreated to the memories, and I still do, everyday. The memories never change, the memories never leave. They comfort me, and they hurt me. The nostalgia is killing me, but I don't care. Let it.

I still see her. I still talk to her. But whatever was there during the trip is gone. It's like I'm talking to anyone else. The wonder and beauty has dissipated.

I'd give anything to try again. To say what I wanted, to tell her how amazing she was. To steal her from her fucking boyfriend, by whatever means necessary. I'd kill to try it again, but it'll never happen. I'm back in this hell of a reality, with nothing left but the memories. The memories are all I have left. This world is forfeit in the face of these memories.

I love you. I don't care who reads this anymore. I dont care if he knows.

I'm not tall. I don't have a car. I can't sing. I can't dance. I'm not romantic, and I can't even muster up the courage to tell you how I feel in person. But goddammit I love you, and if this is the only way I can get around to say it, so be it.

Tomorrow's your birthday, and I wish I could make it perfect. But I can't. Ill plan something magnificent to give and say to you, but I'll only say "Hey... Happy Birthday." And you'll act like that's good enough, but you and I both know it's not.
I'm sorry... I'm sorry every day, for not doing everything right the first time.