Down a street far away
And see a face in the crowd and smile....
I've been messaging Steve a few times now for about a week.It's funny.Ever since January 1999,I wondered what I did wrong or what was wrong with me that he only wanted to be my friend in secret.Why wasn't I good enough to be his girlfriend?I always wondered what it would be like to write back and forth again like we used to when he went off to college, what it'd be like if we sever sat down and talked again like we used to....
So many years come and gone
And yet the memory is strong
I've come to realize I really need to stop living in the past.I never thought I was.I am excited and nervous and scared all at once about the future.I'm forever trying to hurry up the present to become a better a future, or change it to be as sweet as the past was that I remember.I miss my past.Alot of it was horrible and hard and full of heartache.But even more of it was innocent and exciting and sweet and I'd do anything to feel past feelings again- and not just romantic teen feelings, but the easy relief of being a child with responsibilities so simple compared to those of being an adult and a parent.
I cried to my mom yesterday,"Mommy, I don't wanna do this anymore.I'm not good at being an adult.It's the only thing in life I feel like a failure at."I had been battling with a hateful account rep over $2300 for anesthesia used during my C-section last year and I just crumbled after the hour long war.
Anyway, back to the whole Steve thing.Unless something seriously meaningful happens, I'm through living in the past when it comes to him,wondering all the what if's and crap like that.Writing to him now, he doesn't even sound the same.He sounds older and like a familiar stranger.Not the boy I sat in a field with watching heat lightening in a dark sky.Not the boy I walked through Shannon Oaks with at Midnight,looking from the street into people's houses and laughing...not the boy who at that very moment,I'd given anything to be my first kiss. No. he's not the same.My mother was right when she told me, not for anything do things stay the same.It's sad.It really hurts.But in a way it's good,
Why would I want the boy who gave me my first kiss to be the same one to be the first who broke my heart?As it stands now, the boy who gave me my first kiss is the same one who married me.The boy who gave me my first kiss is the one who laid with me on our holy marital bed and created 3 beautiful and perfect new lives with me.The boy who gave me my first kiss is the one who, God willing, will be the one whose eyes I am looking into when either he or I have taken our last breath and leave this world and step into Eternity, into Jesus's open arms.To this boy, I want to say,
I will remember you.I love you John.Always and forever.