Confessions (Part 1 of 3))
She was 16 years old when we first met. I was 19 and still in high school but I knew there was something special. Three years really didn't seem like that big of a deal in the scheme of things, but it was enough to make me think. We had struck a fast friendship but I was always quick to keep things cordial. Two years wasn't that big of a deal, I could wait, I could bide my time.
It was harder after I graduated. Less reasons to see each other and less reasons to remain friends. I did my part, I still felt the same but she moved on. I always thought a part of her knew, or suspected, that was why she had never dated before. But as I went on to school, she moved on too. We would get together for movies or lunch and talk on the phone, but she was coming into her own. She made other friends and met other boys. Boys her own age, boys that said the things I had been waiting to say.
It was then that I started to think about moving on. After she graduated and started living her own life we talked less. I still thought about her often but I couldn't get her completely out of my mind. I stopped inviting contact, tried to forget her. After a while it was easier, though every time she called I couldn't bring myself to say no.
When she called to ask me to meet her for coffee, I figured it was my time to come clean. She was seeing someone and had been for a while. It was pretty serious from what I knew, but I was going to lay it out and let come what may. If spurned, at least then I could move on, if not, well even I knew that scenario wasn't likely. I needed to come clean after all these years. Living a lie, even if it was to myself was to hard.
As I approached for coffee, her eyes were puffy red and swollen, tears down her cheeks. She met me in a blubbering rush, about how her boyfriend had cheated on her and dumped her. How she couldn't trust anyone, how broken her heart was. I hugged her tight and smoothed her hair. And I knew I could wait a little longer.
End of Line.