I love you. Let's start there. I don't think you ever knew that and I never got to tell you and I never even got to say it at all until now. But I knew. I knew it when you touched my feet on the trampoline. Do you remember that night we first went out and how it was so cold that the snow wouldn't even stick to us and you told Mike you felt better than you had in a long time and Mike told Samantha and Samantha told me? I remember how you kissed me on the nose and when you finally kissed my mouth your hat fell off my head. I remember craning our necks to watch Mr. Holland's Opus and the way the women behind us scolded us for our blatant displays of affection.

I can remember a million tiny things about you, and a thousand tender moments between us, but I can't remember a single time when you told me how you really felt about me. And maybe that lets you off the hook. But it leaves me to interpret all those details and moments for myself, and I wonder if I make them mean what I want them to. I told myself I could handle it if you were using me, because it meant being close to you. But what I didn't know was that you weren't doing it intentionally. I could see the fear behind your cool, dark eyes when we talked about it, and I knew you never meant to hurt me. And there I go interpreting again.

I always felt closer to you than anyone in the world. I still feel that, and it's been a year and half since I last heard from you. It will be a year and a half more before I have the chance again. I keep going over and over in my mind what I will say to you. The words used to come so easily for us, do you remember? We would talk about everything, and you would smile that perfect smile when it got awkward and for some reason, that would make it okay. But you're not smiling at me anymore and it's not okay.

And I wish I didn't have to talk about her, but we always have to talk about her. And I wish you didn't love her. Do you still? Is it her you are running away from? I hope you find yourself. I hope you lose all of her and all of the pain of her legacy. I remember how you used to sit behind me with her and the way your laughs sounded when they blended together. I remember gathering up the courage to tell you how I really felt about the whole thing--mostly for myself--and how you looked like you understood and then you never showed up. You never showed up. But I'm still waiting. And I love you.