Part 17: Hardest on Holidays

I could rip,
I could tear
our memories' seams
I could fold,
Show my hands
as naked as thieves,
But I stare at this bridge,
the cracks underneath.

Don't let your love grow away from me
Don't let your love grow away from me
Shocked to find
all my words
won't save me this time.
No, I won't quiet down.
And you'd think by now
I'd bow out gracefully...

-Cold War Kids

...

There's something about the holidays that makes missing Noah unbearable. He's an infection for which there is no cure, even now, years later, even when I'm so "happily" married and have so much "closure."

Fuck closure.

Every happy family, every smiling face, every sad song that plays on the radio only points to him. The smell of pine and cinnamon, the tiny white lights everywhere, the cold, brisk air; they are only causing my lonliness and desperation to grow. They make me shudder all the more when Adam tries to touch my hand or rub my back.

I can't take it! What am I supposed to do? I lost Noah. He's gone. He feels nothing for me, and I'm dying inside. And I have only myself to blame! It's all my fault.

...

I can tell you countless stories of the mistakes I've made with him, and every night I beg God to give me one more chance. Every night I beg Him to let me re-do it all, hit the rewind button. Lord, please.

One night in the dorms, a friend from Florida, whom I hadn't spoken to in quite a while, gave me a call. Noah came over while I was on the phone and I didn't hang up. I ignored him. I sat at my desk while he sat on my bed. An hour later - yes, an entire hour - he got up and walked out my door.

I dropped the phone and chased after him, as if I... I don't know... As if I could change his mind. I grabbed his arm as he headed out of the door and tried to apologize... I gave him a hug and went in for a kiss (YES, a KISS; I AM AN IDIOT) and he turned his head, pulled away, and then disappeared down the hall. I AM SUCH AN ASS.

The worst part is that I justified it to myself; afterall, I hadn't spoken to my friend from Florida in a "long time."

I wish that this was the only situation of its kind, but it's not. I didn't deserve Noah, and I've lost him. I should have done more; I should have treated him better.

Now he's breaking my heart every day. I want him here so bad! I want redemption; I want a second chance.

How does it feel, Noah Preston, to be on my mind all of the time?