Carmela moved away the spring of eighth grade.
There were boxes in her bronze arms, a sign in her perfectly manicured lawn, and her hair blown in her face.
There were tears in my eyes, her name on my teeth, and a sense of hopeless desperation tattooed on my heart.
Carmela and this boy I recognized from the last time I came over, unloading my life right before my eyes.
When Carmela saw me, looking over the wall with a deep set frown and blurry vision, she smiled softly and sad.
I ran to her and she hugged me tight.
I remember begging her not to go, I remember the shiny new ring on her slender tanned finger, I remember her painted pink lips as she kissed my forehead goodbye.
I remember waving to the black BMW, I remember stubbing my toe from kicking the SOLD sign too hard, I remember my mamá braiding my hair and reminding me I knew it was coming.
To not be upset, that Carmela found someone that made her happy, who made her feel loved.
But I thought I had made her happy, and I loved her. How could she not know that?
Mamá sighed and patted my shoulder, "you'll understand someday, mija"
YOU ARE READING
Every Girl I've Loved A Lifetime Ago
RomanceDedicated to the ones who stole my heart, the ones who broke it, and the ones who gave it back.
