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For me, it was almost like winter didn’t count. Summer was what mattered. My whole life was measured in summers.
It was the summer I turned pretty. Because for the first time, I felt it. Pretty, I mean.
He made it so hard not to love him. When he was sweet like this, I remembered why I did. Used to love him, I mean.
we stumbled back to our towels. I loved getting cold and wet in the ocean and then running back to the towels and letting the sun bake the sand off. I could do it all day—ocean, sand, ocean, sand.
“Everybody has to get over a first love, it’s a rite of passage.” But Conrad wasn’t just my first love. He wasn’t some rite of passage. He was so much more than that.
“You wouldn’t notice if the house was on fire. You’re so into what you’re doing, it’s like you’re someplace else.”
Come back. Be the you I love and remember.
!
I loved him longer and truer than I had anyone in my whole life and I would probably never love anyone that way again. Which, to be honest, was almost a relief.
And this time, I was the one to look away. Because I remembered. I remembered everything.
He kissed like he was drowning and I was air. It was passionate, and desperate, and like nothing I had ever experienced before.
“Earlier, when I said I never wanted you. I didn’t mean it.” My breath caught. I didn’t know what to
will never look at you in the same way ever again. I’ll never be that girl again. The girl who comes running back every time you push her away, the girl who loves you anyway.
release you. I evict you from my heart. Because if I don’t do it now, I never will.
And right there, I felt it, the glow, the satisfaction of being the one who left first.
When I used to picture forever, it was always with the same boy. In my dreams, my future was set. A sure thing. This wasn’t the way I pictured it. Me, in a white dress in the pouring rain, running for the car. Him, running ahead of me and opening the passenger door. “Are you sure?” he asks me. “No,” I say, getting in. The future is unclear. But it’s still mine.
