Let me start by saying, four days into this "blogging" thing, and I already almost forgot to do it. My mind can't focus on routine things, oddly enough. I hate routine.
Okay, time to get the blog ball rolling. Today, I had a very long, very deep discussion with one of my best friends, Grace. (Say hello, Grace. You're in my blog.) In short, I had a bit of a summer fling a year ago, and she was foggy on the entire thing. So, being the talker I am, I recapped the entire summer of 2012's events in one hour. (Record time, guys.) The first guy that really took interest in me. The everyday hangouts. The first kiss. (I was sixteen.) The abrubt cease, on his part, of communication. Everything. I told Grace everything, and it wasn't easy to talk about at some parts.
The fact is, after it ended (short and sweet, some have said), I had my fit, and I did my crying, and I got over it. Or so I thought. About a week ago today, this boy apologized to me. After an entire year. He apologized for falling off of the face of the earth.
"Nothing is your fault. I never meant to hurt you or anyone else."
I was so stunned that I'd even popped into his mind. This was that closure everyone was talking about, I was sure of it. He had apologized, and even though I'd forgotten, that's all I'd ever wanted him to do.
Then a day passed. Then another. And into the next week, I realized this was not closure. Why did he apologize to me? Was he actually sorry? Did he have an ulterior motive? I had so many questions, but I was afraid if I messaged him again, he wouldn't reply. But I did it anyway. (High-five me, reader.)
He responded with the good ol', same ol' I should have expected from him.
"There's a lot of bullshit going on right now, so I'm trying to get it all off of my chest."
Okay, hun. And you know what? That was good enough for me. I wished him luck (because it still sucks to see him struggle. It really is a bunch of bullshit) and he thanked me and we said goodbye. (Okay, we said "later" because I'm too punk rock and he's to skater to say a dorky-ass "goodbye".) And then I smiled. Because I had the closure I needed. That quick little back and forth was all it took for me, and now I truly AM okay.
I feel like I could walk up to him and give him a hug and a high-five and I'd still be able to walk away smiling. And, truthfully, I only have one regret, and it's the biggie. I wish I'd never gone into this "thing" having feelings for him. I wish we were just friends. He was fun to be around, and he was a dumbass (my favorite part, actually), and he always made my friends and I laugh. I never had a dull moment around him, and I haven't found many people like that during the duration of my seventeen years of life. I actually sometimes wish we could still be friends. Just overlook the past and shake hands and agree that we'd be cool and just kick it together. But, who knows? Maybe I'm just reminiscing because it's been a whole year. Maybe I actually mean it. I'm just as much a mystery to myself.
Getting balls deep in emotional things,
Cayla xx
P.S. If you're reading this, which I'm quite positive you aren't, WHY ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH WOULD YOU CUT ALL OF YOUR HAIR OFF? Shit, man.
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