Confessions

Our night out wasn’t how I thought it would be; not at all. You were just taking me places I wanted to get to; that was it. But now every dazzling moment is running through my conscience like that’s where they belong. You don’t belong anywhere near me, but I can remember perfectly.

…

I remember how stunning you were when you walked through the door with your uniform perfectly in tact. I remember how sure you were when you argued I was prettier than her over and over again. I remember how charming you were when we’d forgotten anyone was around. I remember almost holding your hand, and shying away from looking you in the eye. I remember wanting to kiss you on my front step, and I remember the hug I settled for instead. I remember how your warm embrace wasn’t much of a settlement at all. I remember how lovely we were. I can remember perfectly.

The next time I saw you, we were back to normal. We were distant, we were passive. I didn’t say what I wanted to, and you didn’t say anything. But I wasn’t torn, because it was just one night. So Monday came and Thursday went, but Friday stood still. Friday was everyone’s night out, although you and I would be there too. My mind pressed with unanswered questions until the time had come. I was dressed, I was ready. I wondered if you were anticipating me, like I was anticipating you.

I arrived first, took my seat, and waited impatiently. The table I chose filled up faster than I hoped. And I wanted to wait for you; I wanted to sit next to you. But saving a seat strictly in your name would have been unacceptable. This crowd would not approve.

As a matter of fact, the crowd had a lot of influence on how I acted that evening. I wanted to relive our night out and just exist in your company, but the circumstances forced me to dance. I bounced to and from you, as Logic and Emotion took turns in control. The later it got, the clearer it became that “one night” would indeed remain “one night”. Witnessing you drive away from me and from my second chance, left me with an inescapable sinking feeling. The clock stuck eleven, and we never even showed up.

My head came out of the clouds when I got home. I knew what I should have expected, because I knew what was going to happen. So why did I build myself up just to be thrown down. I went to sleep in my dress and jewelry before the truth started to hurt. The lies were already painful enough.

Saturday morning, my phone notified me of one new text message from you. “Good night,” it read. Those two words couldn’t have ever meant more to me than what they meant coming from you. You were thinking about me when you got home. You knew how I’d been let down. You were sorry for everything that didn’t happen, because you wished they had happened too.

…

Now, it seems like our night out was just a dream. Sometimes I walk past you in the hallways without acknowledging you, but you won’t make a single gesture in objection. Other times, you notice the expression on my face that begs for your presence, and comply. I wish I could get you to open up; if we were closer, my heart would be set for a thousand years. I think about you at exponential rates; you and that beautiful smile. I’m so unnaturally drawn to you, but I’m tired of fighting it. And its not that you don’t know, its not that I haven’t told you, it’s just that some things are best left unsaid and subconsciously known.