The Guy Across the Street

A Short Story About My First Love

February 7, 2018 @ 9:25 PM

Source; Jenna's iPhone notes

You know when you just have so much on your mind that you literally can’t sleep? I know I'll wake up tired tomorrow morning, but I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened, what the future would have been like if I had hung out with him more. I’m laying here with my eyes closed, trying to drift off, but I physically can’t. I keep replaying memories over memories in my head; when he wished me a happy birthday, when he bought me Jamba juice, when he would film me on his friend's camera and how he knew I hated it. But most importantly, the way he looked at me and the way I looked at him. I had a strange dream last night about him. It seemed as if everything was the way it was before I messed everything up. His truck was always outside of my neighbor's house. I would make up excuses to go outside and see him. Talk to him. I miss it so, so, so much. I wish I could just go back and say something totally different that one afternoon when I chose to hang out with my friends over him. Little did I know that was the last time I would ever be in his mind, be the one he thought about all the time, be the one who made his face light up with a smile when he heard my name. I was too late. He had feelings for me before I even had feelings for him, and when I finally felt those feelings, it was too late. I have never been in love before, so I’m not quite sure how it feels, but whenever I was with him I felt so happy—like I never wanted to be away from him. Like time moved so fast and it was all a blur.

Even though I wasn’t sure we would be anything because of how different our lifestyles seemed in the beginning, by the end, I loved him. Everything about him; his hair, his smirk he would give me, his quirkiness, his cute laugh, his sense of humor, but most importantly, his generosity. He was willing to do so much for me, and I would shut him down. I DON’T KNOW WHY I DID IT. I wonder what caused me to say “no it’s okay” when he offered to bring me food to school, to buy me matching slides, to even buy me Lululemon. I don’t know why I said no.

I know how much my friends hated him, and still do, and I remember how much he hurt me. My heart felt like it was breaking into one million small, sharp pieces. It took me so long to feel better, to get over it. But here I am, February 6th, 2018, and I'm still not over it. I think about him at times, just like right now, when my mind is empty and my brain needs something to fill it. I really suck at removing people from my life, like deleting their number or removing them off Snapchat, because I have this teeny amount of hope in me that hopes they will text me or want to talk to me; -1/10 times that actually ever happens. So here I am beating myself up every time I see their name on my phone.

I still have so much I want to say right now. Something about writing out my feelings makes me feel so much better, like a weight has been lifted off my chest. I still have so much I want to say. So, so much.

But until next time, the time when I can’t sleep because something or someone is taking over my thoughts, and this boy is just the start.

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