Disclaimer: nothing belongs to me.

Juliet, the dice was loaded from the start,
And I bet, then you exploded in my heart,
And I forget, I forget, the movie song
When you gonna realize, it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?

~Romeo and Juliet by Dire Straits

Time and time again

Sometimes you wish you were only a little girl again; drinking lemonade on hot summer days with Brian Krakow (he was your best male friend, even though you couldn't tell anyone that. Boys and girls were supposed to hate each other. It was, like, a secret that everyone knew, even though no one had said it out loud).

There was Sharon too and days filled with spinning and falling on the grass and candy and pure and honest love. Like, the best you can get. That kind of love.

It was simple and beautiful and you would have traded those memories for nothing is the world.

But you're fifteen now, and lemonade just doesn't taste the same because Brian Krakow and you aren't really best friends anymore. Now that it's alright to have a boy as a friend, you, like, fell apart or something. It's kind of ironic and you could have laughed if you didn't feel like crying every time you thought about it. You didn't really think about it anymore.

Time and time again, life went on.

You have two new best friends now and they are great. They really are. Even though, sometimes you wish you had childhood memories filled with Rayanne and Rickie too. You never wish they were Sharon and Brian, you just wish they had been there as well, 'cause it's like something is always missing. Like history. Like past.

Sometimes you make up memories of the three of you and it's, like, almost real. Sometimes you get confused and say things like "Hey, do you remember that one time we ate so much candy we threw up and my mum was like horrified and we kept laughing anyway? Like we were drunk or something."

And Rayanne would be like. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Those memories sometimes were the only things that got you through the day. It was a bit sad to live for things that never really happened.

And you always did that. Like with Jordan Catalano. You know, the way you were so obsessed with him and all and you fantasized about him smiling at you and holding your hand and giving you the last piece of pie and just looking at you. And you lived for that.

Time and time again, life went on.

It was so…like… different when you got together, 'cause for once in your life you were living for something real. You lived for the way your heart felt when he kissed you and you lived for his voice which you heard so rarely 'cause he's such a quiet boy really.

A boy without words.

And you struggled together because you were both kind of lost and it felt better to be lost with someone else to keep you a bit sane, even if it actually made you even more lost.

Then sex got in the way.

It hurt like hell but you lived. No. Not really. You survived. And every day at night you would convince yourself you were over him just so you could get through the night. You realized that once again you were living for a lie. It almost made you cry, but then you decided that you would keep lying and surviving until it became true.

It was just a matter of time before you were free of Jordan Catalano forever.

Time and time again, life went on.

Time is a strange, strange thing and it went so slowly those weeks when it hurt to breathe and there was this Jordan shaped hole in your chest.

It did pass though, and the hole got easier and easier to ignore until you thought you were whole again. It made you giddy and giggly and you felt so free. It was so wonderful not loving Jordan Catalano.

Then Rayanne had sex with him.

If you hadn't been crying so hard you would have laughed at the irony of it all. Sex had gotten in the way. Again.

And with you best friend too. The crazy, loving, beautiful Rayanne.

You cried and cried and then you laughed until your sides hurt. You just couldn't believe the hole was there again. The Jordan shaped one. And you realized it had never really left. The only difference was that now there was another hole to keep it company. A Rayanne shaped one. And you laughed. It was such a ridiculous situation really. Since when had your life become like a soap opera or something?

It hurt just looking at them. It burned.

It made you want to kill them. You had never really wanted to kill anyone. Not really. It hurt feeling so much hatred, it almost made you sick.

Then hatred became your food and oxygen it kept you going. And it was like living for a lie again. 'Cause you could never hate them. Not really. You loved them both too much to ever hate them.

You knew Rayanne was hurting too and that just made it worse. You hated yourself for caring.

You were rude to Jordan Catalano and it made you feel like crap. You wondered why it mattered how badly you acted towards the scum that had treated you like dirt and banged your best friend. But it did.

You did the stupidest thing going after Corey Hellfrick. It hurt Rickie. And that almost killed you inside.

And there was a play. And there was line that Rayanne said that mad you flinch. "Take me back.'"

You wanted to. But it was just a line in a play. And she never did really apologize.

Time and time again, life went on.

Jordan Catalano tried to talk to you. For some unimaginable reason. He was struggling for words and you started to realize something. You started to realize he cared. For you. Like you were important enough for him to try to come up with words. Words that he didn't, like… have.

He cared. And it made all the difference in the world.

Then, there was a letter. A beautiful letter that made you feel special for once. That made you forgive him (even though, in your heart, you had forgiven him long ago).

And you were happy. Truly, deeply happy. Because of those words. Because of the words you didn't think he had.

Because of the words, you later found out, he didn't have.

Because of Brian Krakow's words.

Time and time again, you were living for a lie.

Except… Except it wasn't a lie. Like, the words were true. Brian Krakow really meant those words.

Your head was spinning and everything was going so fast. So fast. It had to stop. You just couldn't do it. So you told him to stop the car. And you left. You just walked away. 'Cause you couldn't look him in the eye anymore, it just hurt too bad.

You went home and put on your oldest PJ's, prepared a hot cup of cocoa and cried yourself to sleep.

In the morning you brushed your teeth, drank some milk, kissed your dad good morning and went to school. 'Cause life went on. Even if it felt completely empty, you knew it would go on until someday you would be able to ignore that giant hole in your chest. Even if it never really disappeared.

You survived. Most of the time, anyway.

Except for those few moments when you met those blue eyes and it felt like you had been stabbed a hundred times over.

Your eyes were always downcast now so you wouldn't risk meeting his again.

Time and time again, life went on.

You got better.

Rayanne was back. You didn't even know how that had happened. She was simply, like, there. Always. Because of Rickie. And then she just stuck. And you let her, because you missed her, just as you had missed Sharon.

Never again did you mention the incident.

And there was Brian.

He was such a good boy really. A tragic boy too. You didn't know why you thought that, but there was something in his eyes that screamed tragedy. And it was beautiful. You always did have a soft spot for pain.

And that's why you kissed him on a warm day, sometime late April. You kissed him because of the letter. Because of the tragedy in his eyes. Because you had known him since forever and forever had to be enough. It had to be.

Most of all, you kissed him because he loved you. And you wanted to feel loved. Just for once. Just to pretend that you also loved him and that maybe you could live happily ever after.

But deep in your heart you knew those were all the wrong reasons. Because you didn't love Brian Krakow and it was just sad to have to pretend to do so even if it was just to yourself that you were pretending.

You could love him; you tried to reason with yourself. You could learn how to love him and be happy. For once.

So you stayed.

And it was nice. He would sit by your side on the bus every day and he would whisper the answers to the questions the teachers asked you during class and he would talk about intelligent things and he would stay at your house listening to grunge music that he hated and he would talk about his day and would always listen to what you had to say and he would hold your hand in school and sometimes he would kiss you under the stars.

But it never felt right.

It made sense and it was nice, but it simply didn't feel right. So you told him that and he understood. He said he did anyway. But you saw tears welling up in his eyes and it nearly broke your heart. You truly did care for Brian Krakow. You just didn't love him.

You found out you can't be with someone just because they love you. It was just too cruel.

So that was that.

Time and time again, life went on.

You were okay, finally. You weren't sure if the hole was still there, but you didn't feel it anymore and you would take just about anything these days.

Your eyes were no longer downcast, and you barely flinched when you saw Jordan Catalano again.

Time and time again, life went on.

Jordan turned into a bittersweet memory.

You didn't think you would ever fall out of love with him. He had been the first one, after all. However, you knew he would never be your whole life ever again. No one but yourself could take that place.

You were happy in a way that you hadn't been for a long time. Like, content with yourself, you know? Like you didn't need anything or anyone else to make you happy.

You loved being sixteen. Like, you had your whole life ahead of you, and at the same time you already had enough memories to fill every sleepless night for the rest of your life.

Sixteen was a lifetime.

Time and time again, life went on.

Summer came along with warm nights and days filled with laughter.

You worked at an ice cream parlor and your friends sometimes came around to talk about nothing and try all flavors of ice cream.

You wished for an endless summer.

When Fate got bored and decided that Jordan Catalano absolutely needed strawberry ice cream, you just smiled and said: "My treat".

He came around everyday after that. You gave him ice cream and he seated himself on the bench and watched you work.

Sometimes you wondered what the hell was happening and if you should tell him to stop coming.

You didn't.

He never looked quite right, there was something just behind his eyes that had you wondering why he was so restless.

You found out what it was one day when he arrived and just shook his head when you offered his strawberry ice cream. He looked decided before saying forcefully: "I'm sorry."

And you knew exactly what he was talking about. You smiled at how the smallest and simplest words were all you needed from him.

You offered his ice cream again and he smiled tentatively.

No other words were exchanged.

Time and time again, life went on.

He began talking. Kind of. He asked things, mostly, like the meaning of words and your favorite songs and about your family and if you wanted to go to New York someday. He asked so that you would do the talking and he would to the listening. He was a really good listener.

Once you asked him why he was doing that and he understood exactly what you meant, even though he said, "I don't know."

You wondered if he didn't know the answer or how to put it into words.

Time and time again, life went on.

Jordan Catalano became a constant in your life. He became a friend, mostly.

You marveled at how odd it was that the boy that you had loved and kissed and cried for and held hands with had never really been your friend before.

And you knew he wasn't a very good person, but he was a good friend.

You went to see his band practices and he had dinner in your house sometimes. Your mom really liked him. "He understands the secrets never told", she would say. You didn't really get that, but never asked.

Time and time again, life went on.

Sixteen is such a beautiful age to fall in love.

So you did, all over again.

Only it wasn't that kind of love that made you suffer and stop eating and wonder if he cared.

It was the kind that made you glow and smile when he winked at you. The kind of love that made you not really care if you were loved back. The kind of love that made you happy just because you were in love. That kind of love.

So you let him drive you around and not really go anywhere. He really loved his car and you liked that he wanted to share that with you.

Sometimes he would stop and help you climbing onto the roof of his car and lie by your side watching the sky turn from blue to orange and pink listening to some old music that was playing on the radio.

"What's your favorite movie?"

"Hnn…The Wizard of Oz."

"Hnn?"

"It's from 1939, you know. I… I don't know. It's just that old movies are, like, better. Then the ones we have today, that is."

"Why is that?"

"Well, can you imagine, like, how it was watching a movie back then? We are used to it now, but then… it was, like, magic. Or whatever. Oh, shut up."

It wasn't a lie, you figured.

It was real, but you weren't living for it.

So when he kissed you, on a Tuesday night on the roof of his car, listening to Billie Holliday and thinking of Kansas, you felt free.

He tasted just like magic.