All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
One year ago, I was lying in my bed contemplating whether or not I should go on a date with a boy I had just met. We were at a park. I was with my sister, him with his brother. He said hi and we talked. And that was that.
Ten months ago, I was lying in my bed contemplating whether or not I should recognize our two month anniversary. Would he even remember? I decided not to say anything. He came over to my house with roses. He remembered.
Six months ago, we got lost in the woods. It started raining, and I told him I was a little bit scared. He smiled at me and held me in his arms. We eventually found our way out of the woods. And ended up on the other side of town.
A day later, he bought me a necklace with a small glass leaf on the bottom. He said that whenever I was sad or lost, even in my own thoughts, I would remember how we found our way out of that forest. Eventually.
Five months ago, we had a huge fight. I told him I hated him and he told me the same. It made me cry, but he said he didn’t care, picked his jacket up and left. We didn’t speak for two weeks, but then we realized that being apart hurt more than when we were fighting. We both apologized and said we didn’t hate each other. I said I couldn’t even remember what we were fighting about. He laughed and said, what movie to watch.
Four months ago, he told me he loved me. I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t even believe in love. I told him that, and when he asked why, I shrugged and told him that my parents’ bitter divorce ended all illusions in my head that love was real. He nodded, and said he understood. Then he told me he still loved me anyway.
A week later, I told my mom that he told me he loved me. She smiled and said that she could tell that he did. I asked her if love was real and she said yes.
The next minute, I ran upstairs and called him. He came over and we sat in my backyard making snow angels in the snow. I told him I had a secret. He asked what, and I told him I loved him back. He said, I knew you did. I knew you knew that love was real, you just didn’t want to say it.
Three months ago, we stole something from each other. Something precious and something that we’ll never get back. Afterwords, I told him I would keep it forever, and even when we were old and wrinkled, I’d still have it. He laughed and said the same thing.
Two months ago, we graduated from high school. He confessed that he was happy that we were officially adults, but scared and sad that we would have to leave each other. I smiled sadly and told him that maybe he needed a leaf necklace too.
One month ago, I asked him what we were going to do when I left home. I was going to be on the other side of the world in Spain. He would be in staying in California. He stopped breathing and a tear fell from his eye. He said he didn’t know, and started breathing again. I looked at him for a long time without blinking, and realized I was crying too.
One week ago, I started packing for Spain. He came over and sat on my bed and watched me. He didn’t say anything, except for when I asked if I could borrow one of his raincoats. He had four. He shrugged and said he’d stop by and give it to me. I walked over to my bed and sat down next to him. I asked him, what’s wrong? He looked me in the eyes and said he was sure I’d forget about him. I said that I was thinking the same thing.
Five days ago, he gave me his raincoat. I said I’d give it to him when I came back. He frowned and said that wouldn’t be for seven months. There was a nasty tone in his voice. I asked him what was wrong and he said that he didn’t feel like talking.
Four days ago, I sat on my bed and told myself that I didn’t love him anymore. I tried to ignore myself, but I couldn’t. I knew it was the truth. And why did I need his raincoat? It was too big anyway.
Three days ago, I said goodbye to my mother. She cried at the airport and said that I wasn’t her little girl anymore. I laughed and told her I had stop being her little girl when I turned sixteen. She shook her head and said that I still was, even after I turned sixteen, I just didn’t know it. I shrugged, unable to argue. I asked her to give me a minute alone with him in the car. She smiled and hugged me. I know you’ll make the right decision, she told me. I walked back into the car and sat down next to him. Is this the end, I asked. He said, you tell me. My head was beginning to hurt and I mustered up the strength and told him that I didn’t think I loved him anymore. He looked like I had hit him. I didn’t know what else to do, so I hugged him goodbye and told him I’d call him when I got there. He said, you’ll be tired. I said that I didn’t care. I still cared about him and he was still my friend.
Two days ago, I sat in a café near my school in Barcelona and called him. He picked up after three rings. Can you please just tell me if we’re over, he asked. I paused and told him, I think we are. I just don’t want to hold you back from meeting other people when I’m not there. He was silent and I asked him if he was still there. He said yes and that he wanted his necklace back.
Yesterday, I mailed the necklace to 405 Walloy Lane. I didn’t know his new address, so I wrote a note on the envelope asking his mother to give it to him. I was sure she would.
Today, I wrote a letter to him, telling him everything I was going to do in Spain, and that I’d bring him back something nice. I also told him that he should go do something fun, because he sounded sort of sad on the phone. I’m not sure if he’ll respond. I’m not sure if I would respond if I was him. I know he’s mad, but I’m not. I told him that this past year would be something I’d always remember for the rest of my life and that when I come back, I would visit him and tell him how Spain was. The last thing I wrote was, I hope you are having fun, because I am and I want you to too. I sealed up the envelope and mailed it off.
Tonight, I lay in my bed and cried. I cried because after I mailed the letter, I went to a park. I saw a boy, and he looked at me and smiled. I cried because I felt myself smiling back and because he came over to me and talked to me. I cried because he goes to my school and lives near me and asked me if I wanted to go for coffee. Tomorrow. And I feel as if it’s finally the end of Me and Him.
Because he reminds me of him.
Tomorrow, I will
*yes that’s the ending, just to reassure the many of you that are probably thinking that I submitted it and forgot to write the ending ;)*