Summer Again

He’s so close now. So close that I can feel his gravitation and I try to pull back. I know what he’s thinking, and he can probably tell what I’m thinking too. That if I would just let him touch me, just the tiniest of breathless touches, that he would promise me the world. He’ll love me forever. That he’ll be enough for me. I’ll never want anything else in this world.

My breath is hot, and I let it out heavily, the decision rolling in my mind. It bounces off his chin and rebounds back to hit me. The cold wall behind me tries to lower my body temperature as I lean into it, pulling its energy for support.

I’m independent. I’m wild and reckless. So why? Why am I so hesitant to fall into his arms? To let him smother me in kisses I deserve? To let him tangle his hands in my hair I cut just to spite him?

Why am I hesitant to hear his heartbeat speed up to only a pounding I can bring out in him? Why am I scared to let him fulfill his promises that linger on the tip of his tongue? That tongue that wants to taste the outline of my lips.

My eyes stare at the brick wall from over his shoulder and feel my eyelids begin to grow slightly heavy. He had his chance before, and he blew it. Why would he come now? My stomach is a sea of emotions, wanting to drain and forget everything. It also wants to find land and crash onto it.

I’m afraid that I won’t be…. happy.

I’m afraid I’ll break again, despite the promises he is willing to make.

My shoulder muscles relax slightly, and my heart sinks in my chest.

He can feel it. Every movement I make. He takes a step back, opening the space between us to feet apart instead of millimeters.

His eyes are hollow. “You’re fading,” is all he says.

Only then does my face flush. I don’t want to hurt him. I never did. I promised I would never hurt anyone like he hurt me. I never want anyone to go through that pain.

My eyes cast downwards to my last suitcase that leans against the wall, ready and waiting to be hauled down to my car. But before all that…when he did love me…was more than all of the pain combined.

“Please,” his voice whispers, wanting to break, but can’t quite reach high enough. “You’re always talking about giving people second chances. Why can’t you give me one too?” I squeeze my eyes tightly shut.

My heart breaks. The softest of sounds for the heaviest things. The pain that it brings.

“I remember when –“ he starts, but I interrupt him.

“I’ve changed,” I blurt and instantly regret the words that spilled from my lips. The lips that remember his.

His eyes fill with sadness and they bore right into mine. I did this didn’t I? they ask. I suck in a breath. He closes his eyes painfully, his internal struggle visible on the outside.

I remember when….

I remember those night walks in the warm spring air, us swearing we'd both head our separate ways soon...but find something else to continue talking about. I remember how distracted he would get during movies being more interested in me than what was on the screen. I remember the excuses I would make to hunt him down just so I could see his smile, and maybe sneak a kiss. I remember telling him secrets about myself that nobody else knew, and him accepting all of it. I remember being happy.

Something inside me shifts and I look at him. “The winter won’t last,” I say slowly.

His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Please,” he says, his voice heavy with emotion, as if he is trying to catch me as I fall, “Don’t go.”

I remember when.

I step closer to him. “One thing leaves,” I mumble, “To become another….again.” We’re not as close as we were minutes ago, but this feels like I belong here. Close, but not touching.

Not yet.

He reads it in my eyes, and something shifts.

He stays close, his eyes looking now at my suitcase. “The winter won’t last,” he whispers to himself. I feel his warmth seep into my skin and I soak it up and let it melt into my heart. Summer will come again.

Finally, I step away and bend down, grabbing my suitcase handle, and look up at my apartment building one last time. He walks with me to my car, now full of my dearest possessions in boxes and suitcases to be shipped, helps me put it in the car and opens the driver’s side door for me.

I look at him once more and remember…him. But I also memorize him as he is now…so that I don’t skew my memories with the now.

I remember when.

I smile quietly, and he mirrors my image. I sit down and buckle my seatbelt and just before he closes the door, he leans down slightly and asks, “Can I call you?” I smile and nod.

He grins, and reaches down and brushes a finger across my cheek. The trail he left blazes and tingles and brings back a flood of memories. And hope.

“Miss you,” he whispers and closes the door.

I remember when.