My Storage Building

My storage building.

I hesitated in the doorway, my hands grasping the metal doorframe. Among the dust sat boxes and totes of mislabeled items and ideas. You were somewhere in there, I knew you were. A part of me was intrigued to dig through and find you again. 

But, I knew he was calling my name. I could hear desperation in his voice.

I entered it, feeling the age of my past emotions settle on my shoulders. It's so heavy, so sporadic, spontaneous, and full of grief. I pushed through the cobwebs, brushing off the dust on the boxes. I saw names and memories I cared not to ponder too long. I don't cry like I used to when I admire them, I simply turn away and move on. There is no point in grieving the past, right?

I stumbled into the boxes from my year in Mexico, they were so full. They were explosive with color, with memories, and with Tomasso and Lucia. He was Italian, wasn't he? He came later in the year, we could barely fit him in. He had olive skin, black hair, and deep brown eyes that showed more emotion than he let on. Then there was Lucia. God, Lucia. Lucia was too beautiful to be in town like that, too kind to be in that friend group, too perfect to exist next to me. I felt starstruck every moment she spoke to me, I felt weak at the knees when she would laugh at my jokes. God, Lucia, I was so in love with her then. Soon the Mexico boxes became barren, they became dark the more I dug. Colby and Will and Katie seemed to disappear. Colby apologized years later for what he did, but it was so unfair. I slammed the box shut, I didn't want to delve too much into it. I pushed the boxes aside, I pushed Tomasso and Lucia to the bottom. It was years ago and they have moved on to better places. It was all I could wish for them.

I almost tripped over a bright pink tote, though I'm not too sure how. I opened it, seeing only the best parts of my childhood resurface. I saw Belle and I playing. She and I were best friends, we hung out every moment we could. I remember running around my basement like maniacs, role-playing a fantasy that was a saga we would compare to the MCU. I laughed at her and Uncle Mark's radio… It would always say things to her even though it was unplugged. She is someone, despite my best efforts for her not to, has seen every part of me imaginable. I love her, she's still one of my best friends. I felt a bit sad as I dug through the memories and laughs we had. I felt my hand hit a cold metal box. I grabbed it, seeing I had scratched his name into it. I sneered at the letters I had jaggedly craved when I was 14: "Joey". There was a temptation to open it, but I threw it over my shoulder. I heard it slam against the metal frame, lost again somewhere in the dust. I locked it for a reason, he will never hurt her or I again. I put everything back and closed her tote. I pushed it to the side and kept going.

There were several with "Maine" scribbled on the top, on the sides were the names: Zack, Abbie, and Carly. I opened Carly and Abbie's totes, remembering how they were my first friends there. Abbie and I giggled about Sherlock theories and listened to Fall Out Boy religiously. Carly became one of the only people I could trust with what was going on with Zack. Her mother bent over backwards for me, telling me I could stay in Maine and be with Zack. I have no idea how my life could've been if I had stayed.

Zack's tote was dark purple. It was dusty except for light spots where I had reopened it a year back. I didn't open it, I just moved it and put my friend's totes on top of it. What he did could never be undone, but he doesn't deserve another barrage of text messages. Fifteen year old me will never be fully healed, I knew that, there was no satisfying that deep pain. I looked at it again before shaking my head, he was a mistake I couldn’t undo either. I won't let my past control me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her tote, it was light brown. I brushed my hand along the lid, grabbing it and pulling it down to my feet. I opened the tote, craving a rush of joy. Bliss surrounded me, the air smelled of a sweet summer. Her name was Emma, she was my first love, I think. She was so beautiful, more beautiful than Lucia. She was smart, cunning, and absolutely amazing. We met purely by luck at a Writer's Conference where we talked and talked about writing. She was the first person I could ever talk about that kind of stuff with. She and I tried to hang out regularly, but we were so busy, there was no time. She came to my house in the States for 3 days and we kept our romance a secret. It felt so amazing to be with her, she made me feel like I was wanted, like I was more than a body to use, like I could be loved for my mind. I felt sad as my hand grazed the bottom, it was so cold. "All good things must come to an end", I suppose... It was so abrupt, so painful. We still haven't spoken to this day, but I remember her so fondly. I closed her tote, pushing it back where it was.

I heard him call for me again, his voice slightly closer now.

I saw a dark blue tote in front of me. It had a 'K' on the front of it. I tried to push it out of the way, but its weight was unbearable. When I opened it, I was flooded and drowned by his text messages. He said such foul words and did so many mean things to me. He called me a whore, a cheater, a liar, all while dipping his tongue in honey to keep me trapped. There were moments we had fun, he was hilarious with his country accent and light blue eyes. But, those moments were few and far from the screenshots, accusations, and words he used to hurt me. I shook my head, laughing at his attempts to keep me with him. I shut the tote, pushing it out of the way with my foot.

Then, there was a dark green tote. It was small but it's impact on my life felt as hard as the previous totes. I lifted the lid and looked inside; he was so charming, we met through mutual friends. Soon, his true colors shined through as he accused me of everything under the sun. He accused me of cheating on him with you, isn't that hilarious? You're daunting, yes, but at least he lived in the same state as me. I laugh at his existence now, he's such a pathetic excuse for a man. I know you and everyone else make fun of him, he's so ridiculous. I laugh at the tote and shove it in a weird spot along the wall.

My heart dropped when a tote dropped in front of me, scaring me half to death-- it was deep red. I felt my heart ache, I don't want to look through that one. I couldn't bear it. But, I knew that if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to find you.

I heard him call for me again, he was getting closer. 

I opened it and all I saw was photos of him and I. We first met when we were seventeen, it was almost an instant connection. We were able to laugh, talk, and joke about almost anything. When he broke my heart four months into our relationship, I was so distraught. My heartbreak made my chest hurt, I was so absolutely in love with him-- I still am. I prayed for him to come back to me and when he finally did, I cried for hours. He and I have been together for two and a half years, we have been through everything together. He has been the light in my darkness. The phone call that has made my day. He has been one of my best friends, someone I could lean on and trust, he has been there for me when no one else ever has been. He has been my love, my forever, my future husband. He has shown me the things I have been scared of aren't as big as they seem, he has shown me that people love me for me, he has shown me again and again that I deserve better treatment. He has proven to me so much I never thought would come true and in return we have grown together, we have molded our lives, and our future together.

I went to grab a photo and I watched your hand touch mine. I looked up, meeting your blue eyes. You darted your eyes away from mine, clearing your throat. You got onto your knees, getting at my eye level. You didn't say anything. You reached down into the tote and grabbed a photo of him and I, you held it towards me. I grabbed the edge of it and watched the photo burn between our fingers. As it burned the photo of him and I, I watched a photo of us emerge. It was the photo she took of us in her living room. We were both leaning close, looking at the gun you held in your hand. You were teaching me something or other about it, I can’t really remember. 

I looked up at you, "Why are you still here?"

You shrugged, "That's a question for you to answer, not me dork." You have this aloof look on your face, I want to smack it right off. You are the absolute opposite of him, down to your eye color. He’s so open and happy, but fuck you draw me in anyways. 

"You can't lie to me, you can't tell me you don't feel something either," I said, "We act like children with crushes around each other."

“I have a lady, we’ve been dating for nine months.” You said, eyes breaking away for a moment. 

“Don’t repeat what you said in your texts, tell me what you’re feeling.” 

“You have nothing to go off other than texts.” You said, snapping back. Your eyes settled on mine and I felt my hand begin to shake, then my body. You were right, damn it, I know nothing about you. I know nothing at all. All I have to go by is a string of texts from 2020, where we were flirty and giddy and I was making fun of you– “That’s really where we left off, huh?” You grabbed the photo and looked at it. 

“You ghosted me.” 

“I had to go MIA,” You defended yourself, “Not too sure what you expected from a Marine.”

“You didn’t even text me back… When I saw you in the church for the rehearsal, my legs were so shaky. I couldn’t believe it, you were actually there.”

You fold the picture in half, “It’s only right, isn't it? You and Trish are like family, me and Linc’ are like family.” You hide your blue eyes from me, focusing on the photograph in your hand.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” I tried to say your name but it’s like something was stopping me, “I’ve been so scared for you to come back.” You didn’t say anything, you just stared, “I knew the second you walked through that damn door, I was screwed. There was no coming back and there was no avoiding it. You were always the one I feared coming home because I know I never got over you.”

You ripped our photograph in half, I gasped, “Don’t worry dork, one for you, one for me.” You give me a smile and I feel my heart drop. Fuck, your smile makes me weak at the knees. You handed me the ripped side that had you on it. 

“Please, say something, I’m so lost.” I felt the tears begin to roll, “I am so unimaginably attracted to you, damn it. Being around you gives me a feeling I have never felt before, I feel like we were destined for this. Everyone up there wants us to be together, everyone sees the good in us and wants us together. I can’t fathom a life without someone to love and I think it’s you–”

He yells for me, I know he’s in the doorway. 

“God fucking damn it, I think I’m falling in love with you–” I admit, choking on your name. 

“You need to go.” You looked behind me.

“No, please, I can’t go on like this– I feel like we could be good together. I don’t want to leave you.”

“Maybe we will be, maybe we won’t be.” You said, looking down at my photo, you look up at me and smile again, “Dork.” 

I felt his arms embrace me. I felt his warmth. I felt all of the comfort, all of the happiness, and everything I’ve ever loved surrounding me. I watched your eyes fall as I couldn’t help but smile around him. I watched you get up and walk away from me, it was almost like he didn’t even see you there. I clenched your photo in my hand, trying to gain any sense of where to go. There was nothing. How could I tell him? I can’t. There is no way I could hurt him. Seeing you again has ruined it all for me. Damn it all, I wish you never came home. 

 He grabbed my hand and we left my storage building together.