Love Letter

The moment I knew I was falling for you was back in March when we started talking. I remember you standing against the lockers waiting for me to leave English. I saw you and I felt like the luckiest girl in the world knowing that you where waiting for me. You made up some excuse for not having your phone which was met by my eye rolls because of course I was skeptic of you, I was insecure of myself and of our status as you where a year older and undeniably cool. I remeber it was raining as we walked out the doors under the covered awnings you apologized for being so distant. I didn’t know what to say and I just walked off without a goodbye into the pouring rain, running to my bus parked all the way across the parking lot. But then I heard your voice shouting my name from the other side of the parking lot. There you were standing in the middle of the pouring rain in the midst of all those people with your pockets pulled out revealing that they where totally empty. “Promise ya” you shrugged your hair now flat against your forehead, clothes drenched I couldn’t help but give you my best optimistic grin and you returned letting the smile break across your face like the dawn breaking against the inky night. Since you’ve been gone though, it feels like I’m just standing there in the rain, but this time you just won’t turn around. Like you can’t see how patiently I’m waiting for you to realize that I’ve been here, and I always will be here because I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else except waiting for you. Counting down the seconds until I get to see your brown eyes like flairs out against the dark night beckoning me home.

The thing about it is I know we aren’t supposed to work. I know that I’m supposed to let you melt into oblivion and dispute into a foggy memory, but I can’t do that. I physically can’t just let you go like I’ve been told. You’re so alive. You’re so ridiculously alive, and you embrace your mortality like no one I’ve ever met though you build your walls up so high. You’re this modern day muse I’ve stumbled upon, and without you my poetry is bland and devoid of meaning. I know that we shouldn’t be together though, I know that your obsession with drugs and your defiance of any and all rules and lack of concern aren’t good or healthy. That you’re fixation with destruction always leads us to the same conclusion. I’ve gotten you stuck in my teeth and trapped in my head. The thought of you getting high in your room all alone makes my chest feel tight, and thinking about you kissing a different girl goodnight makes me want to jump from the top of my roof just to land in your arms. Everyone tells me to just leave you alone but I can’t, trust me I wish I could. Most days it feels like I’m drowning, but when you come around, oh god when you come around the suns shining and everything is clear and bright and restored. When you come around I want to take you dancing and make you realize that you are everything.

We both know it gets harder, and we grow older, and I never really see you when you’re sober. Everything just leads me back to you though. I have to believe that this is love because why else would I do it? Why else would I jump every time the phone rings because I’m scared it’s one of your friends telling me you aren’t okay? Why would I stay up all night waiting for you to tell me you’re home safe? Why would I repeatedly let myself get heartbroken, stood up, and let down? Crying in the B-hall bathroom in between classes, and in the parking lot before school. I’ve made some bad choices because of you, sometimes I can still see that grey Honda and his black leather seats, feel his hand sliding up my thigh to “get back at you.” I still can hear his voice telling me if I don’t smoke you won’t love me. I still remember the initial phone call that you where cheating on me and did I know that you’d been doing pills again? Did I know that you broke your wrist in a fight and you that you’d smashed your phone when you where high?

It’s not that I’m trying to fix you perhaps, it’s just that I don’t want to see you get hurt which sounds tacky and cliche, but you’ve got to believe me. You’re worth so much more then red eyes, and confusion, and phone calls you don’t remember making. You’re worth more then a few hundred dollars and bad decisions to get a buzz. It’s still surreal to me that you exists, that someone as perfect as you came into being, and is breathing the same air as me, and struggling with the same things that I am. I remember telling you about my parents splitting up and my mom cheating on my dad to have you tell me about your dad running away and your moms depression. How you didn’t understand how he could just leave you two, how you remember his green suitcase and instructions not to ring. I still remember you telling me how you’d make things up to me- but you still never have and I’m staring to think you never will.

I remember one night being out late with my mom, driving back with her from her boyfriends house when no one was out and her telling me that you need to be 100% sure when you take a risk that it has the possibility to be worth it. I know that it’s worth it for you. Skipping class and walking the track, taking your picture in the backset, the prospect of kissing those angel lips, the way your voice sounds on the phone, dancing with you to “medicine,” standing with you out on the balcony, wearing your green jacket. There’s not a single fiber of my being, not a single beat of my heart that conflicts with the thought that you are worth it, all of it. You’re worth crying over to “7,” that day of in school suspension, you’re worth the band aids on my legs from falling off a skate board because I was trying to impress you. You’re worth getting bailed on, you’re worth the worry. I don’t care if I’m the only girl from high school that’s still in love with you as long as I’m the last. I don’t care how many friends I lose, how many plans I get left out of. I don’t care what I’ve got to lose.

Cause someday somewhere in the future in this life time it will be perfect. I’ll have you cuddled up against me as the sun rises out our apartment window and the sky starts turning all different shades of pink and orange, bathing us in light and the prospect of a new day. I’ll have your nicotine lips, I’ll have you in art galleries and in concerts, and in coffee shops, and in quiet moments dancing aorund the kitchen. Trust me I know it’s been 28 days but I’d spend 28 years waiting for you and this future that we’re going to create. Some day somewhere out there we’re happy, we’re together. We made at work, and we’re far away from this town and I’ve stopped doing all those things my friends beg me not to do because all along it was only ever for you.

Samantha Sullivan

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