“I'm just so fucking sorry.”
It should have been since before college. Likely in a past life I should also apologize. Let's be honest. It was likely I screwed this up more than once. Yet we still keep coming back to one another smiling, making each other cry, and getting mad at one another.
At the end of the day we hug, kiss, and say, “See you next time?”
“Of course.”
We connect with one another. We feel one another. We smell each other to comfort ourselves. We use our past experiences to make excuses as to why we're lazy. We slowly understood each other, and after all these years we can't stop seeing one another. What's the worst? We sing the same annoying songs together off key no matter the artist.
So why must I apologize this time? I never should have listened to your friend. I never should have listened to someone who would have ended a possible relationship with just a word.
*Click*
Reggie lights another joint. His skinny feet over my olive legs as I rub his feet. I'm a head taller, and we've been friends since high school. Remembering how long we know each other.
Reggie passes me the blunt.
“Thanks.” I grab it and take a quick hit. “Driving back Hun, I don't want to be to fucked up.”
“Alright fucker,” he laughs grabbing the blunt.
“How about you not get ash on my tits.” I said brushing off dust from my chest.
“Sorry Dionna.” He takes another hit. Lays down the blunt and puts on another song. Reggie pulled in close, laying his head on my chest. My head over his.
We both inhale deeply. Each mumbling to the other how we missed the other.
I'm so fucking sorry, I think to myself.
Should I have apologized that night? Should I have walked away from your room? I never regretted a moment. Even when Jennie interrupted our conversation all those years ago. Reggie was a sophomore and I was just a freshman at the time.
Jennie had banged on Reggie’s door, drunk, yelling Reggke’s name so loudly it caused a disturbance. He tried being generous; it was actually, strangely, sweet how they handled the conversation. Jennie seemed very insistent that night, and Reggie kept saying no.
“Bitch we trying to talk,” I finally yelled.
“You need to leave,” said Reggie.
“Bye Jennie,” I said, my face only showing an intense stare.
“What the fu-”
I can't remember who pushed the door close, but both our hands pushed against the frame, and we stepped away. The noise of Jennie cussing out my name in the hallway as they walked away.
Should I have left? Should we have stopped? We both knew that answer after we finished laughing. We grabbed each other's hand, and though it sounds cliche, it was a magical night.
Life is never perfect. The ups and downs of our lives throughout the years made us who we are. The separations when we needed space, and the moments when we finally talked. Our usual response, “Where the fuck have you been?” Should I have apologized then? I know I'm sorry now.
Over the years I slowly opened up to you. Yet we talked of you, and I found everything fascinating. What you wanted to learn, and how you wished to teach others. How you wanted to see the world and experience everything possible within your grasp.
New sites and places to understand. I'mI grew up traveling so much that “culture shock” was just a Tuesday. I was so young and yet I remember those days more clearly than when my parents finally settled at home. The first time.
I had a good childhood. They had their ups and downs as well, but it was a good childhood, maybe even these days it can be considered a great childhood.
Should I be sorry for believing you couldn't trust me? You would always have my trust since that day. I came back from break and you hugged me excited to see me.
“I never believed it.” I never lost trust and would always follow you since that day.
Should I be sorry I never opened up about my past as much? A few things I mentioned here and there, but what I know now had truly affected my judgement. I didn't know right from wrong in that category. Over the years I would understand it better little by little, but I'll never forget that night.
Should I be sorry for taking so long to come back? A hello from time to time, a missed visit, but always how have you been and what's the year been like when we message. The years that passed with mention of mundane life and seeing new experiences as the years went on. You understanding new various cultures. Me understanding society.
Then one day. I see the picture online. You smiling as your surrounded by your class. I messaged saying how amazing you look, and how well everything looks with your class. You respond with such happiness I knew what you were going to say before I even ask the question. You give the answer before my response. I cry. We were never together. It was never that type of relationship. I finally understood what love was to me. Those feelings would never leave. The moments of memories would never fade for me.
People always told me what love was supposed to be. Their version here and there that may not since. Their ideas no longer mattered. I would follow you to the ends of this earth, carry you wherever you wished. My choice, my decision, and my happiness.
So why should I be sorry? For not punching Maggie in the fucking face when that bitch answered the door and lied to my face. I swear that bitch had something on you.
It didn't matter. I'll never forget that day on the porch. Diana and me walking to the car.
“Hey, leaving already?”
I turn to see Reggie, leaning over the rail, his camo jacket somehow glowing in the the cold morning air. Hair pulled back, and thick rim glasses that seems to intensive your eyes.
“What about Maggie?” I asked taking a step.
“I didn't invite her.”
I walk up and Reggie grabs me into a hug.
“See you next time?”
“Of course.”
We smell one another for a few minutes and finally stop when Diana says, “it's cold, open the door.”
We let go laughing as I take a step back and turn. Maybe it was fate, but Maggie walked out looking hungover and wondering what was going on. We smile at each other letting our hands go.
Ten years? I'll wait. Twenty years? I'll wait. When you're seventy? When you're eighty? I'll wait. It's my choice. It's my decision. If we meet someone, I know we'll both wait.
I'm just sorry I didn't say, “I love you,” sooner. I always had the worst-timing.
I'm sorry, for how much I love you. I can't say it aloud just yet.
*Cough*cough*cough*
Reggie takes a deep breath inhaling. He looks at me and smiles. My turn to pick the next song. This moment feeling right as I pick a song I might actually sing too.
I almost let a river of tears flow. “You're a great father to your daughter.” I play the song. We start singing so loud we remind ourselves we need to keep quiet. The feeling of how much I missed just being near them and holding them in a hug, just for comfort. I look to him wanting to cry. I smile, “I'm happy you're in my life.”
Reggie puts down his blunt and comes in close. Hugging me. “Me too.”
One long inhale.
“See you next time?”
“Of course.”
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
0 comments