I still remember that day in September when I looked across the classroom and saw her for the very first time. She was writing on her notebook, looking up and then down, giving me a glimpse of those green eyes, a sweet second that was almost enough. She was, without a single doubt, the most beautiful girl in the room. I kept – unsuccessfully – trying not to stare, wondering what was on her mind, and why it wasn’t me.
I still remember the first time I heard her voice, and how it suddenly became my favorite song. I loved her good mornings and see you laters, and then her are you doing anything later? that almost melted my heart; I loved the way she sounded talking about herself, her major or the book she was reading and asking questions about me – I didn’t want to answer, because I just wanted her to keep talking; I loved her you look amazings, good nights and then i love yous.
And of course I still remember the moment I realized I had fallen in love. We were driving back from a date at that restaurant we loved so much. When I stopped at the red light, I looked at her as she changed stations on the radio and there was no thinking to be done. I just knew, so I said it, and she smiled and said it back. In that moment in time, everything made sense. Love had proven itself real and as beautiful as in the movies, but better, because it was here and it was mine.
I still remember our first fight, when we got back from the bar with all of her friends. We were wet from the rain and drunk from the tequila, and I tried to pretend I wasn’t jealous of that faded face of whose name I now don’t even remember. We yelled and woke up her roommate, we apologized and cried, and when she felt like she might get sick, I held her tight and tied her hair and we loved each other in our ugliest, our nastiest, and through all the bad days.
I still remember how it was always nice in its own quiet way, to wake up next to her. I felt lucky and reminded that life could be beautiful. As the months and months went by, and even the forevers started to change, that is the one thing that was never different. I always felt that, no matter what, waking up with her by my side would always be better than without.
And then life happened, as it does; nights crying, endless options – none of which good enough -, plane tickets, broken hearts, goodbyes, calls every other day and then further and further apart. Life happened and my theory was, in fact, proven right. It was always worse not having her there.
I still remember her letters, the handwriting sloppy, because I think she was writing way too fast, trying to fit the entire world around her in two or sopages and not miss any details. I still remember when she stopped writing, probably because she realized that, in this case, words would never be enough.
I still remember how I much I cried and how hard it was for my friends to get me out of the apartment. I still remember feeling like it would never be okay again; I still remember the first day where I felt like it might. It was spring, and when I woke up, she wasn’t the first thought in my mind. She was the second, and my heart hurt like it did every morning, but I got up, went to class and was able to pay attention. I was still broken, but maybe not hopeless anymore.
I still remember how hard I kept trying to forget it all, and how somedays I almost thought I did.
And of course I remembered it all last night, as much as I tried not to, when my eyes were caught by someone across the hotel bar. Without a doubt, the most beautiful girl in the room. My heart remembered all the things I tried to forget, shattering as I looked at her, same green eyes, taking a sip of her drink and laughing. I kept – unsuccessfully – trying not to stare, wondering who was that she locked arms with, and why it wasn’t me.