Memories of Corsages and Regret

I'd come back for the weekend to see my parents. I hoped that I'd maybe run into you in the mall or on the street or whatever, but I asked and they told me you left a while ago. California I heard. Are you as happy as I remember you? Is your hair still soft as it used to be? Your lips, are they still as pink? I hope your heart is still as pure and your mind still as complex. Times have changed, I have changed but I hope you haven't. I hope you're still the girl I remember.

I was pacing my room when I found it. I saw a black thread on the pristine white carpet and I bent down to pick it up and there it was, under my bed peeking over a bunch of old magazine clippings – you're wrist corsage from senior prom. You said you wanted a plastic flower so we could show our kids, do you remember?

I looked around for a while and held the corsage up to my lips. It brought me a little closer to you, I suppose. It has lost your scent over the years. But seeing it in my hands reminds me of the days of me and you. I remember how your hand fitted into mine that night. I remember how I interlaced our fingers for the slow dance: shaking, nerves getting the better of me. If you looked at my room right now, you'd be disappointed. There was nothing in there that showed how we used to be. The corsage was the only evidence that you'd been here before.

I don't get those little flashes of missing you anymore. I don't get those waves of emotion. Those little waves build and build. Then they crash, it's like a tsunami of memories that comes rushing back all at once. There's no stopping it, no way of preventing the eventual outcome. I'll be floating for days and things finally look like they're working themselves out, it's as if things are getting better. Then the tsunami comes and I'm brought back to earth.

I usually remember new things about you or us every day, but sometimes, on the really hard days it's just the two days that play over in my mind: the day I fell in love with you and the day I left you. The day I fell in love with you is probably the hardest because all I want to is start over; do it again. Do you remember the day you fell for me? The day I fell in love with you wasn't even meant to be a special day. You came over after Cheerio practice and we started watching The Little Mermaid. Is that still your favorite Disney film? You lay on my bed with your head tucked under my chin. You let out a choked sob when Ariel and Eric kissed. I want somebody to love me like that you mumbled before you fell asleep. I sat awake for the next few hours going over in my mind what I would do for you. I realized that I wanted to be your Eric. I wanted to be the person who made every decision worthwhile. I'm sorry.

Remember Sue's sister's funeral? Do you think we're tethered together? I know the moral of the story was that people who are meant to be with each other will find each other, but we found each other already and I want to think we just got lost along the way. That's not true though is it? We're not best friends anymore, we're not close. I'm not in love with my best friend anymore. It is hard being in love with a memory because memories are exactly that; memories. We'll not relive anything, we won't get anything back. What hurts most is that I'll never get that feeling again: the feeling of falling in love with my best friend and wanting for it to slow down so I could gather my thoughts and emotions but never wanting it to stop.

We were told we'd be together forever, have kids, a puppy and be the couple with the white picket fence. I used to get terrified when people said that. I never wanted to settle down, I didn't like the thought of being tied down and restricted. But I remember one day Kurt said it to us and I look to you and you just smiled at me and everything just kind of melted into place. I couldn't wait to wake up to you every morning and take you in my arms. But we weren't together forever; we didn't even make it past high school.

I remember that day I left. We stood in my room just holding each other for about an hour. I said I was sorry and that I loved you. You didn't say a word. When the time came that I had to leave you wiped my eyes; your eyes were dry. You didn't cry in front of me. You held out your pinky for me and I took it. We walked down onto my driveway and you held my pinky until I was in the driver's seat. I remember you closed the door and that's when I say your eyes well up but no tears fell. You tried to smile through the tears when you mouthed don't go. Do you remember? Mom told me you slept in my bed that night.

I'm still holding your corsage but instead of pacing I'm looking at myself in the mirror. You know I'm not religious, but sometimes I find myself praying that God made another one of me. I want you to find a person who can love you as much as I can, treat you as well as I could and hold you for as long as I would. Maybe we were never really meant to be together. Maybe fate got mixed up and I'm supposed to be with you, but you're not supposed to be with me.

I've let you down, I know and I'm sorry. When you told me you wouldn't be graduating with me, you told me not to cry. You told me to move on with my life and go to Louisville without you and look back on us with no regrets, just smiles. You told me to never life with regrets. I don't look back on our relationship with regrets; I don't regret one single bit of it. I regret ending it because I didn't want to hold you back. I regret not phoning you for three months because I was scared you'd found love. I regret being selfish when it all ended. In fact, if I'm being honest with you, I regret our last kiss. I regret not holding it for longer, I regret not kissing you harder and I regret not feeling your tears against my cheek and taking them as a reason to stay.

I look around once in a while and look at all the unhappy people. It makes me wonder how these people became miserable. Did they lose a loved one, or did they leave a loved one? I see some happy people and all I can think about is you. I hope you're happy. I hope you're still singing, I hope you're still dancing, I hope you're still laughing. I hope you didn't let us break you like it has broken me. I hope you don't cry over us and our past. I need you to be happy. Maybe, if you're happy then I'll have a reason to be happy too.

I guess from looking at this corsage all I've really realized is how sorry I am. I'm sorry I said goodbye, I'm sorry I chose me over you, I'm sorry I didn't kiss you for longer, I'm sorry I cried when you told me not to, I'm sorry I look back in regret. People tell me to move on, they tell me that we're over, that I'm a 23 year old woman and I should be over my high school sweetheart. But I don't think I want to move on, I don't think I'm able to. I think if I was to go somewhere, I'd be there by now.

I suppose I just wish you haven't forgotten me. Please tell your children about me; please speak of me how I speak of you. I speak about you with such pride. Tell them our inside jokes and about how we wished to grow old together. Tell them how we danced at senior prom. Tell them about our first date. Tell them about our first kiss. I tell people every day about you. I tell them how happy you made me. I tell them how you made me believe in both love and heartache, I tell them how you were the smartest person I knew and how I was proud to call you mine. I tell them how I'll never forget you, not ever. I'll tell them how I wish I could see you again.

It was a privilege to love you, Brittany S Pierce.