Regret

You know that feeling where you know you're going to regret something as soon as you've decided to do it? Like, the words are coming out of your mouth or you're pushing the button, and that cool, burning feeling of dread rushes through your entire nervous system. And it's not like you can just stop doing whatever regretful action this is, especially when other people are involved. You just have to accept that you're screwing everything up with every forward motion you make.

That's kind of what the past year of my life has felt like.

It's funny how we make mistakes and then forget that they were mistakes. We start to defend them to ourselves and others, justify them within the context of our lives. Until, suddenly, you realize that you're unhappy. I honestly forgot about how much I regretted losing her up until she asked to talk to me.

When I dumped her, Jane didn't seem to want me out of her life. She responded to all my texts quickly, and the first few weeks of our new single lives, I would receive one or two drunk texts a week. But, in person she was pretty cool. I mean, the first few days were rough, but it was only a week later when she invited me to her house for a party. Maybe it's because of my fake ID, maybe it was an excuse for us to spend time together. It doesn't really matter. It wasn't like our relationship was some month long fling where I could just end it with a fist bump and agree to be friends, but I sort of treated her that way towards the end. We had just gotten back from a trip to her moms in Idaho, and she had been weird the entire time. Sorta like I was dating a different person- someone less sure of herself and her decisions. In my defense, I honestly thought we were on the same page when we got back.

I guess that's why I wasn't totally surprised when she called me a couple days before the New Year. We hadn't seen each other in a few weeks and the surrounding months had been a platonic wet dream. Sometimes I'd even text her about music, or she'd ask me advice on meditation, and we'd talk like good old pals for a while.

And then she called me, asking if I had any time to talk. I didn't, but her tone sparked genuine curiosity within me. There was this... confident excitement mixed with casual hesitance? I'm not sure how to describe it, but it was like she had no idea what was going to happen but she didn't even care. So, I agreed that as soon as we were both free, we'd talk. It took a couple of days with both of us working and trying to maintain a handle on the first year of college, but, eventually, I found time to stop by her house.

Jane had just come back from shopping with a friend and was organizing all her new stuff when I walked through the front door. With no one else home, Jane had the living room speaker turned up to 'vibrate-your-eardrums' level and I have to shout to get her attention while she stores some brand new mugs.

"Mason!" She exclaimed with a small smile, "Sorry, one sec!" Her hand flew to her back pocket and the music softens to background noise. I watched as she fidgeted with her hair and glasses, pulling more framing hairs out of her multi-colored bun. After clearing her throat a little, she asked me how my day was.

Ah yes. Our biggest fault as a couple and as individuals. Hard conversations were never something we had even attempted. If either of us had a problem in (or out) of our relationship, their seemed to be a mutual understanding that they were to work it out themselves before coming to the other about it. At least, that's what it seemed like. We never actually discussed it.

But she made the decision that she wanted to talk. She asked me for this, and I wasn't going to let either of us back down. Something inside of me had to know what she wanted to say.

"It was okay, ya' know, same old same old," I replied, "What was it you wanted to talk about?" Jane had let out a familiar sounding sigh, and we spent a moment standing in silence. Neither of us had made a move to migrate away from the kitchen, so we stood at opposite sides of the island, as if having an object between us could have protected us from a hard conversation.

Another sigh filled the room, and Jane squeezed her eyes shut, as if she could teleport out of the room with the pure will of thought.

"I still have feelings for you." The voice was not as small as she seemed, "And I promise I'm not trying... I just think that I can't move on because I still don't really know why you dumped me. And I know- I know you tried to explain but I wasn't in the headspace to hear it, and I guess I just assumed that it was because you lost feelings for me but you never said that, and then that thing happened in March, and then my life got so crazy but now I'm here and I just can't figure out how to get over you."

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. I could feel all her fear underneath the layer of calm. The mask she had on screamed, "I'm ready to get over you, I need to leave this behind," but her energy pulled me in the other direction. "Come back," it whispered, "tell me you still love me."

But I couldn't. Because that's not what she said. She had said she wanted to move on.

"Um, yea, that was partly it." I said awkwardly, "It was also just that, uh, it felt like we were going in two different directions with college and stuff." The words felt fake as I stood in front of her a year later, living in the same town and applying to the community college she currently attends. But, she was nodding in agreement after I said this. The energy behind her faded, and I could tell she was closing up. She had worked so hard to get the courage to talk to me, to maybe get us to have a conversation that made us more than these weird friendly acquaintances who see each other at parties. All I gave back was some bullshit answer about having different futures.

"Yea, that makes sense," She finally said, "I just don't know what to do. I miss you. And I don't want to feel this way anymore because you're my- one of my favorite people and... and it's hard."

"Well, you can't control how you feel." I tried to assure her. Looking back on it, I wish I had said more. I wish I had told her how scared I was of losing her later, losing her after falling deeper in love. I wish I had told her that I didn't know what I wanted my future to look like, and dating her made that vision blurry because I didn't know if she was in it or not. I wish I had told her that I thought we could maybe make it forever, if she hadn't been so sure we couldn't. But she just said thank you, and I had took that as my cue to leave. After putting my shoes on, I took one last look at her. She had looked so confident when I first walked in, but in that moment, I could see the light dimming around her. As if she could feel me staring, she looked back at me with a totally fake smile.

"Goodb- oh. Aw." Before she could bid her farewells, I wrapped her up in a hug. The moment was silent, slightly awkward at first. I tried to say everything I couldn't outloud through that stupid hug. I couldn't tell if she felt it, but I tried to leave her with some hope. I tried.

"See you soon!" Were my last words before closing the door.

That was weeks ago. Over a month now, in fact. I've seen her once or twice since, and each time was completely normal but there something off about it. She keeps showing me these new aspects of herself- ones I had slivers of moments with before, but were often quickly buried underneath wry, dark wit and pessimism. And when we say goodbye... I just can't help but feel like something is missing. Like I'm always not saying something I should be right before she leaves.

I now sit in the same place I sat that night, after I left. A memory of my hands gripping the steering wheel while I stole a glimpse of her slowly sulking towards her room through the kitchen window, her shoulder shaking slightly. I could have gone back in that night- dried her tears, held her hand, kissed her cheeks. Honestly, why I didn't completely escapes me.

But now, I've found myself sitting in her empty driveway again. Jane is cleaning in the kitchen, warped music drifting through the walls between us. She dances to the tunes while sticking dishes into the washer. Her hair is shorter than when I saw her last.

Getting here is a hazy memory. I was in my room, watching youtube while I ate my brunch. A video about the different types of important relationships in life came on, and something was said about people being in your life at certain times for a reason. It sparked a memory of Jane and her silly belief in astrology. She was looking at my birth chart or whatever and let out a long, deep sigh before looking me dead in the eyes and saying, "you're so going to break my heart, and I love you completely."

Next thing I know, I'm here. Trying to figure out the words that could articulate what this past shitthole year has been. My chest pounds as I try to gather the strength to get through the two doorways that would lead me to what I think is happiness.

My passenger door opens, revealing a very tired looking Jane. She wears a smile, but her eyes have bags under them.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to bother you but you've been sitting out here with your car off for, like, ten minutes. At least." Her voice has a kind pain behind it. It's got the tone of someone who knows their heart is about to be stretched out again. "Did you want to come inside?"

"I..." Nothing seems to come out. She nods and climbs into my car with me, nonchalantly reaching over to turn the key. We sit in the artificial heat, listening only to my music that somehow says everything I can't.

I think about everything I've done to Jane, starting with saying 'I love you' way too soon, to the times I ignored her when I knew she was sad because I didn't want to deal with it, to dumping her in her best friend house just three days after meeting her mom, all the way to hooking up with her a couple months later when I couldn't get anyone else to sleep with me. And all she's ever done is love me.

"I'm not sure why you're here, um, but if you wanted to talk, I think that's a good idea." Jane finally says something, as if she can sense the storm brewing in my mind.

"Really?" Is all I can reply with. She nods, clears her throat, and softly speaks, "I don't think I was all that clear last time we spoke."

I'm not thinking as I grab her hand and open my mouth.

"I don't think I have been all that clear with you in a long time. Jane, when I broke up with you, I thought I was going to be leaving at the end of that summer. I thought that we were building a relationship just to break it, and, honestly, I couldn't imagine watching you walk across the graduation stage without thinking about holding this stupidly tiny hand until we're all bone and dirt. And then I convinced myself that I only felt that way because I didn't actually love you- like the fact that I couldn't appreciate having you in the moment was a signifier that I didn't love you anymore."

"And when we didn't see each other for a few months, I think I realized that I really did still love you. I regretted breaking up with you, but I didn't know how to make things go back to the way they were. I still don't. I don't know how to go back to who we were before."

I'm holding Jane;s hand with both of mine at this point, and I think I might be crying a little bit but I don't care, because she's crying a little bit too. Her body still faces away from me, and I can feel the internal battle of words fighting up her throat, killing to be the first one said. She takes a deep breath and calm energy floods the car, radiating from her chest.

"That's because we can't go back, Mason. We can't change that you broke my heart, or that I went batshit crazy because of it. We can't just kiss and pretend like the past three-hundred and seventy seven days didn't happen." Jane says. My heart sinks deep into my chest.

"But we can move forward." Jane turns towards me, finally taking both of my hands in return, "We can be more communicative, and honestly treat this as a relationship rather than two best friends that sleep together." We laugh through our tears at this, looking back on the lonely kids that found each other two and half years ago.

"You still really want this? After everything I've done?" I ask, not truly believing this could be a reality.

"I've done my own fair share of unfair things, Mason. We have to forgive each other."

I honestly can't believe it. I'm fully aware of Jane's faults. She drinks too much sometimes, and her mood is based only on what's happened in the past thirty minutes. But she loves me. She loves me. Despite all of the running I've done, she didn't stop loving me.

I only hope I can give her what she deserves.