He came up and kissed me on my forehead, and before he stepped away, I closed my eyes and tried hard to memorize this moment. I wanted to remember him exactly as he was right then, how his arms looked brown against his white fitted shirt, the way his hair was cut, the way his cologne tickled my nose...
We stood there, looking at each other, saying nothing. But it was the kind of nothing that meant everything. In his eyes, there was no trace of what had happened between us earlier and I could feel something inside me break.
Because it felt final. I always believed that we would find our way back to each other every time. That no matter what, we would be connected—by our history. But this time, this last time, it felt final. Like I would never see him again, or that when I did, it would be different, there would be a mountain between us.
So that was that. We were finally, finally over.
I looked at him, and I felt so sad because this thought occurred to me:
"I will never look at you the same way again. I'll never be that girl again. The girl who comes running back every time you push her away, the girl who cares about you anyway."
I couldn't even be mad at him, because this was who he was. This was who he'd always been. He'd never lied about that. He gave and then he took away.
I felt it in the pit of my stomach, the familiar ache, that lost, regretful feeling only he could give me./p
There hadn't been one specific moment. It was like gradually waking up. You go from being asleep to the space between dreaming and awake and then into consciousness. It's a slow process, but when you're awake, there's no mistaking it.
That's when I finally got it. I finally understood it. It wasn't the thought that counted. It was the actual execution that mattered, the showing up for somebody. The intent behind it wasn't enough. Not for me. Not anymore. It wasn't enough to know that deep down, he cared for me. You had to actually say it to somebody, show them you cared. And he just didn't. Not enough.
I never wanted to feel it again. Never, ever.
Maybe this was why I came, so I could really know. So I could say good-bye.
There are moments in life that you wish with all your heart you could take back. Like, just erase from existence. Like, if you could, you'd erase yourself right out of existence too, just to make that moment not exist anymore. This was my moment.
Adapted from Jenny Han, We'll Always Have Summer