Memories of Summer

[Week 1: Liam]

Since this isn't a 13-year-old girl's notebook, I can't start off by writing "Dear Diary". Sorry, but I put my man-pride first, whatever's left of it.

After all the only one I'm writing to is you, Laura. I found this old book with pictures we had drawn when we were little. You had even made a circle around a place where the paper was a bit crumbled and written "Gross boy's drawl".

I remember when my family and I first moved here. You thought I had two dads since there was a fifteen-year-old difference between my dad's first child and I. But I had to explain things to you between cookies and milk, which was I guess the only reason your blonde curled head wanted to "talk" to me.

But that was okay since you looked like a princess when the sun kissed your head and your laugh made all bad days in my memory fade. But I don't think, however much I try, I will be able to forget the face who looked at me the way you did.

Your eyes were so big, as I was walking towards you. I was going to give you a ride home as you had been waiting for my soccer practice to end. I saw a girl stand in front of you. Not until I came closer did I realize it was Debra.

My world stopped.

I knew what she had told you. I could see it in your eyes as you were trying to understand. You were trying to picture how the boy who had been one of your close friends for years, the boy you grew up with, your first boyfriend, could do this to you.

I remember how my shirt was sticking to my stomach because of the heat. It was late May and prom was to be held in just a few days. I have never seen so many emotions play on your face before. Not even when you told me that your mum had left.

There was confusion, anger, sadness but for the most was a suffocating disappointment. I stood still as I saw Debra leave you with a stroking motion on your arm. I had fucked up so badly. I knew it, but still I didn't have the courage to tell you.

Once again forgive me.

You walked towards me, not slow, not too fast. You kept your eyes on mine until you were in front of me, that was when you were supposed to stop Laura. You were supposed to stop and scream. Scream that you hated me. Hit me and make the ache in my heart burn with the touch of you.

But you kept walking.

I, of course, couldn't stand it and grabbed your arm. You looked at me and I could see that your eyes were getting glossy. But you smiled. You fucking smiled at me, just like you did when we were little and I had ruined your favorite Barbie doll by throwing her into a frying pan (long story).

You said: "It's okay, Liam. Let go of my arm, I have to go."

I wanted to explain myself. I wanted to scream for the world to know that everything was a big fucking mess in my head and that I needed you. Debra meant nothing to me, I meant nothing to her and it all had happened so quickly.

But I just said: "Leyley I'm really sorry."

And you answered: "I know Liam. But it's Laura from now on."

Your words cut me, I know I'm not right to portrait myself as hurt. But it hurts me in the morning when I see your curtains open. It hurts me in the afternoon when you get home from work. It hurts me in the evening when I know you sit in your bed and watch Friends for the hundredth time. It hurts me even more in the night when I can't sleep because my body aches for you.

I rang your door three weeks ago. I had dressed up in smoking and the navy tie you had given me last Christmas. Your dad opened the door with a surprised smile, your dad had always liked me.

He told me you had gone to Samantha's house to get ready, he looked at me with a raised eyebrow. He asked me if you hadn't told me. Your little brother came to the door. He gave me a look which said: "I know what you did."

I laughed it off and said that I just wanted to see that everything was going as planned. Your father clapped my shoulder, as one would do to their son, and looked me in the eye.

He said: "You take care of my daughter, Moore. Or I'm putting you on the bench."

I said: "I sure will Mr. Collins."

Your brother didn't say anything as usual. But sometimes silence speaks louder than words.

I want you to know that I searched for you the whole night. I was crowned prom king. But I would have broken that crown a thousand times over just to have one dance with you.

We had been talking about this night since we were six. How we would swoop in like superheroes and rule the dance floor. You always loved to dance, and I loved watching you.

I have screwed up so fucking bad.

I can't even stand to see the way your dad looks so proud of me at the games. Maybe if I told him he could beat me? I need something to stop my longing for you.

You have ignored me for days. You pretend as soon as your dad is close to be smiling towards me. But you don't touch me. You can't.

I, if anyone, should understand.

But this is the last summer I might have with you. I want to do everything I can to make up for what I did. I can't let you go. I'm fucked up, I know.

I will keep leaving flowers outside of your window for however long it takes you to see them. Peonies are your favorite, remember when you said they looked like princess gowns when you turn them upside down?

Well, I do.

I'm sorry Leyley, I love you. 

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Dearest reader

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Your dearest,

6th of April