Yours Truly

           If you’re reading this, I hope you never have your entire life ripped out from under you. I hope you never have to experience a broken heart, if you haven’t already. There’s only one person I would ever wish to feel as low as I feel now and he just so happens to be legally bound into never feeling this way unless death do them part. Today, the love of my life is getting married… and it isn’t to me. I realize I might seem very creepy, being parked outside the church three hours before the wedding is set to start. If anyone recognizes me, I’m sure there’ll be trouble. I’m not an ex-boyfriend. We were low key and I like to refer to our togetherness as a friendship on fire because we never made it to the official side of being in a relationship. It didn’t matter. I already knew I would love her forever from the moment she first smiled up at me like I was the greatest thing in her life. I’ll never forget the smile on her face. I never thought things would make a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn. Yet, here I am, two years later, trying to decide if I should crash this wedding, watch it happen, or go home and forget the whole thing. My head says one thing, my heart says another, and my friends all say something different. I’m not exactly sure which to follow but at least I have another two and a half hours to decide.

          When I was in tenth grade, I fell in love with a girl and I’ve never been the same since. I’m not the smooth kind of guy who can charm girls with my wit. Falling in love with Lucy was an accident and I never planned to fall as hard as I did. I never really cared about dating in high school. I never really understood the point, or dating in general, really. My dad said he was the same way until he met my mom. I always rolled my eyes when he said that, thinking he didn’t mean it but was only saying what he thought Mom would want to here, just in case she was in ear shot or in case she would happen to ask me for any reason. I knew exactly what he was talking about when Lucy found my study hall one day to return some notes I’d left in a library book. I thanked her for bringing them back and she thanked me for leaving them behind because they apparently really helped her finish the paper she was writing. I’ll never forget that grateful, childlike smile she gave me as she sat the scribbled notes on my desk. She looked at her shoes and I could tell it was my turn to say something interesting and wow her before she walked away. I’d never seen her before and with a school as big as ours, I probably wouldn’t see her again if I didn’t have an excuse. Unfortunately for me, my brain didn’t work fast enough and she politely excused herself before I could say another word. I was kicking myself for two weeks after that. The only reason I eventually stopped was because we switched classes due to the start of our spring semester. By some work of fate, I walked into half my classes and she was already sitting there, usually a seat in front or behind me because our last names were so close alphabetically. I like to believe it wasn’t just my imagination when she saw me the first time that day and her eyes lit up. When it came time to partner up on things, we usually made eye contact and worked together, pretty well, I might add. Even in the classes we had with my friends, I still always worked with her. Sure they made fun of me for it but I didn’t care. It wasn’t until junior year that I actually admitted that I had feelings for her. I’m sure they already knew but I didn’t want to say it out loud, for fear that she didn’t feel the same way. I could assume whatever I wanted from her body language and think they were signals of some sort of attraction but there was always the embarrassing chance that I could be wrong.

                The warm summer sun is making my car feel cramped and more uncomfortable than the self-made tension surrounding my thoughts. The cold air coming from my vents feels great but I can practically see the gas tank needle receding. I should care but I don’t. I glance at the passenger seat next to me and eye up the newspaper clipping that’s been sitting there for a month or two. The couple smiling in the picture seems like two strangers I’ve never met before. Just the names catch my attention. In black in white, seeing her name was what caught my attention in the first place. Otherwise I might’ve never known. I might not be sitting in this mostly empty church parking lot, trying to decide my fate.

         
Looking back, I can always remember that one exact moment when I knew I would marry her one day. This moment is different than the moment I knew I would always love her because at this point, I knew she felt the same way and we would be happy together. We were at a football game during our senior year and she kept shivering but insisted she wasn't cold. It's so cliche, you know?  The girl takes the guy's sweatshirt and BAM! instant romantic comedy, right? I think that's exactly why Lucy wouldn't admit she was cold around everyone because they would probably get sappy and our friends have a habit of blowing things out of proportion. At the end of the game, it was after 10:30 and she was ready to leave and I saw her walk through the parking lot toward the exit. I realized she had walked to the game and was about to walk home. I was taking a big leap of faith when I ran after her. I liked her and made it obvious. I was pretty sure she liked me and so was everyone else. The major roadblock is the fact that she never really verbalized it. There were times when we acted like a couple and then there were times when she acted distant. So, when I shouted her name and she waited for me to catch up to her, standing in the cold September wind, her breaths appearing in front of her face, goosebumps on her arms, I could tell I wanted to marry her. Despite the fact that standing still was probably the worst thing anyone could do with the bitter winds blowing through our town that night. Yet, she heard my voice and stopped to wait and see what I wanted. Without asking, I took off my jacket and threw it over her shoulders. She didn't say anything, just smiled up at me and her eyes gave me the thanks her lips couldn't say. She walked to my car and I felt daring enough to slip an arm around her shoulder. She didn't shrug it off or get stiff with discomfort. She seemed pretty at-home under my arm and she looked at-home sitting in my passenger seat. I walked her to the door that night and thought for a second there might be a kiss goodnight. When her front door shut behind her and I hadn't been kissed, I realized I was getting a little ahead of myself but was still pretty stoked about all the progress I'd felt I'd made that night. All night I just thought of the way she looked in my sweatshirt and imagined that she accidentally fell asleep wearing it.I fell asleep that night, hoping Lucy would be wearing my sweatshirts for the rest of our lives.

     I texted her the next morning and waited for her response. At first, I thought maybe she was sleeping in but then morning turned to noon and it wasn't like her to sleep that late. I went to hang out with my friends to pass the time and pretty soon the night was ending and I still hadn't heard from her. I didn't her from her on Sunday either. I didn't really know what to think when I was driving to school Monday morning. I hoped I didn't upset her by moving too fast and I couldn't stop cursing myself for the moves I'd made. Before I got to school, I stopped and picked up chocolate milk, her favorite morning drink and hoped it would ease any kind of anger she might have against me. When I got into the building, the walk up the stairs took an eternity and I felt like I'd never get to my locker. When I did, there she was, waiting for me. Of course I was confused but the way her smile spread from ear to ear when she saw I was thinking of her this morning was enough to take away any fears or disappointment I'd developed over the weekend. I just guessed that she liked to keep me guessing. To this day, I still don't know what stopped her from texting me that weekend. I'm not sure she'd even remember it anymore. She might have just seen my text and then forgot to reply. I probably should have just texted her again but at the time, I probably didn't want to bother her. Who knows what I was thinking. I doubt that one weekend has anything to do with the outcome I'm trying to survive today but, chain reactions can be very powerful. All I really know for sure is that she was walking a whole lot closer to me when we left my locker and went to hers. Her whole demeanor seemed different. Since we became friends, she'd always been borderling flirty with me