More Than a Memory

Prologue:

Just Over Four Years Ago:

"I'll call every night, I promise." My best friend, Elias says as he hugs me tightly.

"Do you really have to go? Can't you stay?" I plead.

"I can't Tess. I wish I could, but mom says that job opportunities like this only come up once in a lifetime, and with dad gone, we really need the extra cash. I wish things were different, but I have no choice," His voice cracks. "I'll miss you so much."

I feel a few hot tears fall down my cheeks, and quickly pull out of his embrace to wipe them away.

"Please don't cry, Kitten," Eli grabs my hand. "I'll call every night, and I'll visit all the time."

"Cross your heart?" I ask.

"Cross my heart." He says, before pulling me into another tight hug.

"Elias! It's time to hit the road!" We pull apart at the sound of his mom's voice.

        I look to my best friend in a wide eyed panic. "Please keep in touch. Please."

He shoots me a sad smile. "I'll call you as soon as I get settled in, I promise. I love you Tess."

"I love you too," I smile through my tears. "Bye, Eli."

He quickly shakes his head. "No goodbyes, Tess. I'll see you later," He pauses, as if he wants to say something more. "I'll see you later, Kitten."

"Yeah, see you.."

He leans in, kissing me on the forehead, before walking away. He slides into the passenger seat of his mom's white Suburban, and the engine revs to life. I watch as the car rides away, taking my best friend with it.

"Goodbye.." I whisper towards the retreating car.
     
Present Day:

Four years. Not one call. Not one text. Not one email. Not one lousy visit. For four. whole. years. Eli reached out regularly in the first two months after moving away. At first, it truly was every night like he promised. Then the excuses started as to why he couldn't call.  Eventually, around the end of the second month, the excuses stopped all together and I stopped hearing from him at all.

I called, I texted, and I emailed for over a year every single day, and then once a week for another year. Elias never opened or answered any of my messages or phone calls. For four long years I've been without him, and it still kills me to think about it too much.

        I hate Elias Jackson for what he did to me, and I hope I never have to see his stupid face again.

About two years after he left, I put anything that was a reminder of him into a box and stored it in the attic. I couldn't bring myself to throw it all away. I thought that removing those things would help me to forget him, but it didn't. This house alone is enough to bring a million memories to the surface.

The thought of him used to make me sad, and after a while it began to make me angry. Now, I feel absolutely nothing. Elias Jackson is nothing to me now. Nothing but a distant memory that I do not wish to revisit.