December 2002
Twenty-one days.
That’s how long they say it takes to kick a habit. I can tell you that’s a bunch of bullshit because it’s been longer than that since I’ve seen Mia and I crave her just as much now as I did then. I’m miserable. Absolutely wrecked and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
Worse, everything is all my fault.
I’ve lost a piece of my heart—my soul. No, lost is the wrong word. If something is lost, you have a chance to find and reclaim it. My heart has died and I feel like I’m in mourning.
As a distraction, I’ve been spending as much time as possible at the station. Since I’m just a volunteer, I’m only required to respond to forty percent of the calls each month. I’ve gone on eighty.
“Hey, bro, you got a package in the mail,” Luke says as he walks into the apartment.
“Oh, yeah?” That’s strange. I’m not expecting anything.
Sitting on the kitchen table is a medium sized, brown box. When I read the return address, my breath falters.
Mia Avery.
My mind spins with everything that could be inside. Maybe this is her way of reaching out to me with Christmas right around the corner. It seems to be our go-to method of apologizing. Even though I’m the one that has a lot of groveling to do. Trying not to get my hopes up, I carefully and hesitantly cut the tape holding the box shut. When I see what’s inside, my entire body almost crumbles.
Every single thing I’ve ever given her, everything we got together, all of our pictures, anything she had that would remind her of me is staring up at me. My heart drops to the pit of my stomach seeing her throw all of our memories away. Then it dawns on me that she’s not just mad or hurt, she hates me. She doesn’t want a single trace of me with her. My hand goes to my chest where my tattoo is and rubs it. My heart seizes like a couple of old, rusty gears that have locked up and refuse to move. I grip the edge of the table and brace myself on it.
“Argghhh!” I yell out like a warrior on the battlefield before my arms swipe across the table, sending the box and all of its contents to the floor. Scattered everywhere are pieces of my life. A life I was sure would include Mia. Prom, Lookout Mountain, birthday gifts.
Everything.
My eyes rest on my favorite picture of us from the photo booth at an amusement park we went to this summer.
“Hold up, let’s go in there,” I tell her as I point it out. We get in and close the curtain before inserting some money to make this thing work.
“What kind of faces should we make?” I ask her.
“Let’s do one cute one, a funny one, and a kissy one, and a—”
“Or we could do all kissy ones,” I suggest, earning me an elbow to the ribs.
The countdown starts at five. “Okay, no stupid faces, Blake. You need to make up for that rollercoaster photo.” Alright, so the rollercoaster wasn’t my best moment.
Forget the picture. I start to tickle her sides and she throws her head back in laughter when the flash goes off. “How’s that for a stupid face?”
“Okay, okay, you got me.” She’s still laughing. “Now be serious.” She smooths out her features and I face the screen and smile, waiting for it to snap. When it does, Mia says, “Okay, now kiss me.”
“Gladly.” With my hand behind her neck, I pull her to me and seal my lips with hers. This never gets old. No matter how many times we do it, it always feels like the first time. I pull away and look into her eyes as my thumb rubs her cheek. There’s so much love in her eyes, and I can only hope she sees it in mine too because I love this girl with my very soul.
The photo booth beeps, letting us know our session is over. A few minute later, it spits out our prints. There’s the one of her laughing and us posing and smiling. Of course the kissing is hot, but my favorite is after that. Staring into each other’s eyes, it would be hard for anyone to not see how we feel about each other.
We have a love that has grown over the course of twelve years. A love that has gone through stages of friendship to what we are now. A love I’m sure will withstand our approaching obstacles of distance and time apart. No matter what happens, I’ll always look at this frame and know exactly how I felt at this exact moment.
I want to crumble up that photo and burn it. I want to destroy everything that lays at my feet, but I can’t do it. It’s amazing how twelve years can fit so neatly in a confined space and be shipped anywhere around the world.
When I see my notes, my knees damn near give out. I used to hide her little notes all the time. They’d be in her locker or under her windshield wipers. When she went away to school, I mailed her letters, wanting her to remember I was always thinking of her. All of my feelings for her lay at my feet, discarded and forgotten. I didn’t even know she kept all of them, but to have her give them back is like a dagger to the heart.
“Whoa, what’s up with all this?” Luke asks behind me.
I’m still heaving, my body shaking with hurt and anger. “It’s . . . nothing.” I don’t want to explain this to him. He’s already told me I’ve been moping around here like a pussy. Bending to pick up my mess, Luke comes up beside me and pats my shoulder.
“It’s going to be okay, man. Let me show you how to forget her.”
I don’t care what I have to do as long as I can ignore the deep ache in my chest.