The Yellow Box

Its been maybe a couple of years since I took out that box and looked at its contents. And I am crying to make things worst. I mean...why? It was my decision to make things the way they are, although, deep down inside I have been hoping for the past three years to be wrong.

When I was a junior in high school, my biggest concern was to maintain my relationship a secret. We would wake up at about the same time, him for work and me for school. The best part about waking up was that he would always send me a good morning kiss. This seems like so long ago. I guess my mind blocked a lot of things because my heart was not willing to suffer the pain of the loss. To be very honest, I think I've forgotten most of it, which is why it doesn't bother me to write all this. This is just a faint memory I deal with... everyday.

There is one thing I do remember perfectly and that is the kiss competitions we would have. Its silly, I know, especially because they were just texts but honestly, back then, it meant the world to me. Most of the time I did outstanding in my classes. I was in a senior class, a college credit class, a second level language class,  floral design, speech,  and journalism. I had been told my sophomore year that my junior year would be my hardest, and yet, I found it my easiest year. My only worry was to pass my classes and to maintain that secret. Meanwhile, I wrote.

I had this notebook. It was little and with colorful stripes on the cover. That notebook was my everything notebook. In it, I wrote to him and myself. When class was boring, I would pretend to take notes in it; when I was bored, I wrote in it; when something happened, I wrote in it; when I needed to remember something, I wrote in it. To me it was like having him there with me. At first it was just me pretending, but later on I decided I actually wanted him to see how I 'had him next to me' basically all day. Eventually I started directing my entries to him.

That notebook was also numbered. It wasn't the regular pg. 1, 2, 3, etc. that you find in any book. Remember, this was about him and me. The pages were numbered backwards. Each number represented the days left until my 18th birthday, when we could finally be together. Sometimes I forgot to number (and date) the pages, so I would literally recount the days one by one. At that time it seemed like forever. It seemed like a lifetime, like it would never get there, or like time was not going by fast enough. Most of all, I craved to be by him.

The very few times we got to see each other were magical. I couldn't get pretty enough to my  standards, and yet, when we finally saw each other, his eyes would talk to me. Only I could understand them. This trait I learned to master with him. Its true when they say the eyes are the mirror to the soul and sometimes, our souls speak louder than our words. His eyes would tell me I looked beautiful, that I was in fact the most beautiful girl in his eyes. He could tell me he love me with those eyes of his. He could just stare at me  and not say a word the whole time. With those eyes I knew he was in love and so was I. I wanted so badly to hold his hand, to feel safe next to him. One thing he would never fail to do was whisper into my ear, loud enough for me to hear only, our secret. He would tell me "you look so beautiful," and instantly I would smile. He could make me smile with the most simple things.

We made a lot of promises and a lot of plans for the future. I guess that's what we would talk about on the phone or text. This is one of the things I can't remember well. I know we would text all day and talk during the night when everyone was asleep. I got caught maybe three times and of course, I lied and got in trouble but kept doing it anyways. Not a single person in this world could keep me away from him. In our phone calls he would sing The Scientist to me and sometimes wait until I fell asleep. He doesn't know it, but sometimes when I knew he was tired, I would pretend to fall asleep while he sent kisses until he hung up. I'd be awake but felt bad for keeping him awake since he was tired. I know I did most of the talking a lot of times. I talk a lot. He listened. We were both so good at having our conversations like that but sometimes I would get mad because I wanted him to tell me something. Gosh, I can't really remember why I would get frustrated so easily, I guess, like many things that were wrong with us, I was too young.

He really did mean the whole entire universe to me. He gave me butterflies just to think of him, he would bring smiles to my face in my daydreams. There was not a single second in my day that I did not think of him. I haven't loved anyone like that since then. I grew up and realized I wanted to pursue other things, I wanted to be young and innocent, I wanted to live life a little, I wanted to make mistakes and learn from them, I didn't want life to be predictable. Maybe I was being ambitious. Maybe I was scared. Maybe I wanted to be proven wrong. My life all of a sudden started going by so fast and it felt like I had no control to where it was going. I had wanted for three years to be with him. When he rejected me three times, I conformed with his friendship, as long as he was in my life I was happy. When it finally happened, it was the best time of my life. Unfortunately for me, once I felt like I could no longer breathe, I let him go.

I am so stupid.

Its too late now. We are friends again and I made him promise me he would never share our story with any of his future girlfriends, not even his wife. He is MY past and he had MY heart and no one has the right to have anything that is mine unless I give it to them. I wanted to remain a shadow in the past. No one ever stops to think of a shadow, its not important. All I have that I didn't destroy is a little yellow box with some things he gave me. I keep it locked and I hide the key where I won't remember. Its almost as if I wanted to keep that in the past, but I can't anymore. I am being replaced and the only thing that is still bonding me with him is that little notebook. I don't want him to have it because its like a sacred symbol of my love to him. A love that until now I realize, has never left me. Who knows where he keeps the notebook or if he still has it. I can't help to think that he does have it and he will keep it until that other girl gives him something, then that something will be the most special thing he has and it will replace the sentimental value that the notebook once had for the both of us. I can take being replaced, but that notebook means a lot more to me than what he can even begin to imagine. I cannot, and I repeat, I cannot live with the thought of being compared, or better yet, to have that present be compared or outdone by anything else. I have thought of it long and hard and I have come to the conclusion that if I don't get that notebook back, I will never move on and I will literally die of sadness. Let's be honest, no one I actually know reads this blog, so no one will ever know.

Now I can't stop crying...

Ten Years of Existance

She didn't need the traffic report on the radio to tell her that it would take the same 56 minutes to get from her office to the safety of her home. After all, she had been driving through that hell for three years. When the counselors talked to her class about all the wonderful perks of going to college and getting a diploma, they forgot to mention that working in a cubicle also included headaches of traffic. It wasn't like any day was any faster. Every afternoon after cleaning up her desk, she would get on the elevator, press the parking garage button, walk to her car, and hope so dearly that the traffic was just traffic and not a car accident. A car accident could take up an extra half hour or more depending on how severe the accident was. However, that was selfish, she thought, and yet cared not one bit. All she wanted to do was get home, take off her uncomfortable office clothes and lay on the couch just for ten minutes of relaxation. This afternoon was no different than the rest. She could not get on the carpool lane, just like the rest of the drivers. In moments like that she wished the city would build subways. No matter how crowded they got, they still circulated just as fast with no traffic. The heat outside was another factor contributing to her traffic headache. Her car thermostat read 101F. Even though the temperature seemed normally high, it felt worse. She could feel sweat running down her back, accumulating in a cloud right above her waist. Her AC was on high but the sun's rays penetrated through her windshield mocking her attempts to stay somewhat cool. No matter how hard she tried to drive fast, the person in front of her would eventually break bringing her to a slow stop.

When she reached her exit she felt relief. Almost instantaneously she felt cooler and more relaxed. Getting off the freeway was always a relief, especially in that heat. The slower her car drove, the harder it was for the AC to stay cool. In ten more minutes she would be out of that inferno and into the embracing arms of her couch, cool and welcoming. Ever since she started working at the firm, she looked forward to letting herself drop on that couch. Her weight was reflected in the wrinkles of the leather, but it didn't matter. To her, that was the only place she rather be. When she pulled into her driveway she saw Sally looking through the window. Her little hairy hands played with the blinds, her leathery mouth pouting in excitement. As soon as she opened her door Sally balanced herself on her knuckles making her way to her loving caretaker.

"Hello peanut! You missed me? I missed you too." The monkey seemed to care very little about the dialogue so she put her down at the smell of her dirty diaper. She could change it later but might as well do it then. Sally was a Capuchin monkey that her uncle had gotten her when she had turned 12. "Why a monkey?" she had asked her uncle. "Because there are a lot of those in Argentina, because your brother is allergic to cats, because you don't like dogs, your mother hates rats and reptiles carry diseases." "Fish are boring" she replied. And so that became the beginning of her friendship with the little ball of fur with big eyes. Sally was very docile, unlike most household monkeys. Since she had never broken or eaten anything, she felt comfortable enough leaving her to roam around her home in a diaper. Besides, Sally just liked to sit on top of the couch by the window waiting for her pull up from work. Her mother used to tell her that Sally would do the same thing when she was in school. When it was time to move out on their own, she felt secure with her monkey and yet anxious. Monkeys don't adapt to new environments or new people. However, her uncle had told her that Sally was a special monkey for a special girl, and special she was. Once they had settled in, Sally took a look around the place and decided she didn't much care for the new place. She also didn't ever mind people. Most of the time she would go into her room and wait for the people to leave. It was very obvious that for a pet monkey, Sally was indeed special.

After the dirty diaper routine she finally got what she had long awaited for. The couch. With open arms and a cooling sensation she let herself drop into the smooth surface. She closed her eyes, kicked off her heels and decided that today she would not make dinner. Without realizing, she fell asleep. It was in her mind that she feared to get lost the most. Lately however, she kept seeing his face but hearing someone else's voice. It was never the same dream. Most of the time, there was a lot of people she didn't recognize but they all seemed to know who she was. Today though, she wasn't in the dream. It was simply a flash of his face, no voice, and a cloud of gray. What seemed like a brief minute turned into an hour had it not been for Sally. She had settled on her stomach waiting for her owner to feed her. She looked at her phone and there she saw it. One new message. Hesitant, she put the phone down on the coffee table and walked to the kitchen to fetch Sally some apple slices. The message was on her mind, however, she refused to look at it. Filled with doubt and anticipation she decided to put it off after her bath. Normally she took showers but a shower would be much too quick and she was in no hurry. Sally followed her with two apple slices on one hand. She climbed on the toilet to jump on the sink where she would wait for the steam to start rising which would be her signal to leave.

While the bathtub filled up, she went to her room and got out her yoga pants, an old t-shirt and clean underwear. Everything about her day was routine except those messages. She waited all day for the notification to pop up and when it did, she ignored it for as long as her anxiety would allow. For the time she soaked in the tub she listened to Pandora. It was almost eight when she decided she looked too much like a raisin and it was time to come out. With a towel wrapped around herself she walked to the coffee table where she had left her phone. There were two messages now, one from her sick co-worker asking about the meeting she had missed. With as much detail as possible she answered and walked back to the bathroom. She got dressed, hung her towel and took a deep breath before opening the other text. She knew the answer she wanted to get but it was unlikely she would get that response.

They had met at a gala a year ago. It wasn't an awkward meeting considering the circumstances. The firm had thrown the fête in honor of the CEO's retirement. It was a grandiose event for a man that called it a night at ten. With lots of champagne left and a plenty of hors d'ouvres, nobody seemed to mind that the person being celebrated was the first one to go home. She was standing in a corner talking to some colleagues when she spotted an old college friend.
"Well I certainly did not expect to find you here out of all places."
"Of course not. You went back to your old girlfriend and I went in search of my career."
"You know that is not how things happened Jen..." He was right. Six years in college can do a lot of good and bad to a person, especially after they become legal. She looked down a little uncomfortable at the reunion. She had been lucky to live with her parents while attending college but the man standing in front of her had made many mistakes while enjoying his time away from his home.
"I figured after graduation that you would go back to Iowa."
"Iowa had nothing for me. I go there often to see my parents but I like it here. And I knew I'd run into you at some point if I stayed."
"What about Camille?"
"She's at the bar making friends..." There was an awkward silence with the tone of the word 'friends.'
"Well at least she can fit in everywhere. Anyways, why are you here?"
"I suppose we work for the same man. Your branch must be the legal department. Mine is marketing. I'm actually over on Main St. Its close to my department and Camille is planning to move closer to town. You're still living with your parents?'
She could say no right away but instead she bit her lip and lied. The guy in front of her had sat next to her in orientation day. He didn't introduce himself, he just sat there and commented on the dean's speech. In the following weeks she would run into him a lot to the point that she gathered the courage to ask his name. To her surprise, he knew hers but by that time they had stopped being strangers. The friendship bloomed to the point that she felt no need for a girl friend or a boyfriend. She had the best of both worlds with this guy, until he met Camille.
"I always knew you'd live there until you got married." She smiled. Her dress all of a sudden felt too tight and her knees weak. "There's someone I'd like you to meet actually." She had heard him say that all throughout college. Sure, there were some cute guys, some nice guys and some duche bags, but most of the time she felt that they only approached her because he told them to talk to her. It was a strange familiar sensation that ran down her neck, like a chill but not quite.
"This is Michael. He's our tech guy"
"Hello nice to meet you."
"Jenelle." She smiled thinking he was too formal and too good looking for a tech guy.
"Michael and I go way back. He used to live next door to me. Now we work together in this big city."
Up to a point she was relieved to be away from serious business talk. Working with lawyers was no ice cream sundae, but what was worse was having conversations with them outside of work. She didn't think of them as sharks or snakes, to her they were just people walking in a trance. After some small talk he left to take Camille home. Now it was just her and this Michael stranger. She thought best to head home too, after all, it wasn't the first time she had been ditched by the same friend to take his girlfriend home. The familiar sensation crept down her neck again. She had gotten rid of several guys before with the same line.
"Well this was great but I got a little one waiting so I better go."
"You mean your monkey?" She stopped smiling. Not two hours ago she had met this perfect stranger and already he knew more about her than most people she saw on a daily basis. Speechless, she looked at him in disbelief. "Steve told me about his college buddy with a monkey. All his college stories are with that friend of his. This strange girl with a monkey."
"Well then I guess now you know. I do have a Capuchin monkey who has lived with me since I was 12."
"I'd like to meet..."
"Sally"
"I'd like to meet Sally. I've already heard half the stories about you and Sally. I know you now so I'd like to meet Sally." She smiled at that, got up, shook his hand and warmly said "maybe."

Following that meeting came a lot of phone calls from Steve. Nowhere in her mind did the idea of a re-encounter fit. She was a busy woman: Four out of six day she would bring work home, she taught a kickboxing class on Saturday mornings and took a Mandarin class on Thursdays at the community college. Sally also kept her busy even though she was not a messy or destructive pet. Sundays she would spend the day at her parent's house and the rest of the time she liked to read novels. Her schedule had been like that for three years and she liked it. Physically and mentally it drained her and she told herself she liked that lifestyle. There were no distractions and no unnecessary worries. She liked the idea of knowing what to expect out of her schedule as ironic as it seemed. Truly though, she was screaming for change. In her many attempts at dating, she had found that not only did it make her nervous, it also seemed ordinary. She was like most girls who dream of their wedding but unlike the rest, she didn't want to try so hard all the time. Instead, she figured that if she kept busy all the time, she would be able to find excuses to avoid dating. When the time seemed right, she would know. 

Steve, however, seemed to think it was always time. He seemed to think that her train was leaving and if she didn't make up her mind, it would be too late. His goal was to introduce her to the "right" one but after six years he had only introduced her to the "same" one. She wasn't interested in a guy who could tell just any girl they were beautiful and special. So far no one had managed to make her believe that she was indeed the most beautiful or the only special one. Now, a year later she could only think of one thing. Him.

She opened the message.

"Its for Steve,"  she read. "I know,'" she replied. A month ago he confessed his feelings towards her. They had been talking, unwillingly, after the gala and to her surprise, he was more amusing as a friend than a love interest. She was happy with that, there was no feeling of compromise and she knew he wasn't interested either. It was a relief for many months for both of them and they ignored their feelings until a month ago when he couldn't keep it inside anymore. She had given it a thought or two but had decided to keep it inside worried that the friendship might get ruined. However, they were past the point of no return when he kissed her one Friday night at her house. They usually went out to dinner on Fridays, except that Friday there were preparations being made in the city for a big parade and most places had closed early, so they went to her house instead. The kiss took her by surprise, it seemed to her like they had had too much wine, but when he apologized, she knew he was well aware of what he had done. He grabbed his tie and left her there sitting on the carpet with Sally watching from a distance. She had pushed him away after that and now the tables had turned on her. She couldn't get him out of her head and it was him this time pushing her away. Life works in strange ways, giving us a taste of goodness and then taking it away if we hesitate to enjoy it. She knew she wanted to go to Steve's bbq on Saturday. She knew she would be done with everything at work by the next morning. She knew she had told Steve she would go. What she didn't know is how to gather the courage to see him an entire afternoon and ignore her feelings the whole time. Even so, on Saturday afternoon she put on her khaki shorts, an denim sleeveless shirt, picked up her hair, slipped on some flats and with bright red lipstick she made her way to Steve's.

She rang the doorbell, waited a minute impatiently with her hands gripping on each other behind her back, and there he was, standing on the other side of the door smiling at her.

"Hi."


-I.M.