Pages From the Year I Lost You

I love you.

Dear Diar, Day 1

It seems so strange to say, and so distant to think about, that graduation has already happened, and I'm planning the next steps for college. I thought that planning for the future was easy when your heart lies heavy in your chest or when you leave behind the people you thought you would never lose. Falling in love in high school is awful; it hurts. Getting over your first love is more painful than the last first kiss. I should probably stop writing in my diary and finish packing for college.

Dear Diary, Day 20

He texted me. I'm sitting here staring at the phone and looking over the breakup text, and I get cold feet and let the phone sit dry. I refuse to put my heart, my happiness, on the line again. I just leave it. As I sit here, I can't help but start to cry as tears fill my eyes. Flashbacks of that night in the rain when I was crying in the passenger seat, and he was yelling at me, he swore we landed in a ditch, and even got out of his car, still yelling that we hated each other. I look at the last call months ago from that night, I remember everything, I remember losing him and each other, I remember her. I just remember so much.

Dear Diary, Day 48

I haven't thought about the "night" since that text message. I snap back into a cold reality and remember that orientation for honor students has a different meeting, and I can't be late. As I pack my stuff, I get a phone call from a new number I don't remember. Like an idiot, I answered. It's him. He says, "Can we talk?" I say no. I say yes, as my eyes start to water. I say no. I tell him I still remember that night, the night where we both almost died, the night from that party that is still under investigation, that night where he, the girl he knew he felt something for, was there too, that night. I am still scared. He just breathes on the other end of the phone, I remember that night too, he tells me. Oh God, I shriek and start to cry, I still can't do this, Derek. I hang up.

Dear Diary, Day 67

I still visit the house of the crime scene, where my best friend and I both lost our best friends, to a party-laced drug that nobody knows who brought. So much has happened since then, and I still miss Abby. I just want to know who she met, whom she trusted, and where the suspect went that night. I am sure he does too. I never thought that in one night I would lose my best friend and my first love. Looking at the house that was abandoned and burnt up, I miss everything before the flames broke out, before it all went bad, before I lost everything I loved.

Dear Diary, Day 80

He's on my front porch when I get home. He is on my front porch. I don't know what to do, what to say, or how to get out of the car. I ask him, "What are you doing here?" I -- need---I, it's like he can't talk or something. I yell, he says please. I just think things don't work right without you. They don't, not without you in my life. I honestly understood every word because I feel the same way. I just look at him, I run my finger through the side of his hair, and quickly drop my hand. I tell him, I missed you. He looks up, startled. I keep going, telling him that there's not one thought since that party and our breakup that you haven't been on my mind. I miss everything about you. He does not respond for a while, so I start to walk away. He then says, I hate that I met her. With my back turned and my eyes glazed over with tears, I hate that you met her, too. Goodybe Derek.

Dear Diary, Day 90

Sometimes, after that conversation, I wonder whether I was too mean to him or whether I wasn't letting him explain enough. I just need to not feel a damn thing for just one moment. I need to not feel like I'm losing myself and people. The more I think, the more I begin to grow; I just need a moment. He looked so sad, so hurt. I wish, on some level, I could fix what was bothering him. Then again, I still hate him, and I still love him. I need time to understand who throws it all away, without thinking of the repercussions, without everything since freshman year... never mind. I'm an adult now, and it all subtly just hurts like hell.

Dear Diary, Day 100

I'm finally here at the University of New York. My final destination for the next 4 years. I won't forget the truth or the memories, good or bad. I won't forget his love and my hate. I just need a new beginning away where I don't have to live without my best friend or him. I just saw one unread text message from Derek: "I still love you," it says. —My roomie walks in to tell me there's a guy waiting outside for me. I look out the window, it's Derek, it's him, it's really him. I hesitate again, eyes filled with tears, when did he send this, and how did I not read it until now? I can't even think straight ... I say okay to my roomie and head downstairs with tears streaming down my cheeks uncontrollably. I pushed the door open, and I looked at him like I was seeing him again for the first time, and he walked up to me and wiped the tears from my eyes. I say the only hting that i forgot to that day at my house weeks ago.

I love you.