We, you, me.

                “It will be okay.”  That’s what you always told me when you thought I was sad.
         The first time we met, you weren’t my favorite person.  In fact, I called you a dirty word, but that was before I actually knew you.  I’m not sure when I developed feelings for you, but it was the most wonderful feeling in the world.
         The only class we had together was band.  I was usually second chair, and you were usually first.  You hated being first chair and you always begged me to beat you in the chair tests, even going as far as messing up intentionally, but I could never beat you.  You would get mad at me for not being able to beat you, but how could I?  When you played the trombone, I would sulk in shame because I knew I would never be able to be better than you.
         Around the beginning of school, I made it into the pit crew.  I wasn’t that excited about it, but then I heard you were going to be there, I couldn’t help but smile.  That was until I found out you had a boyfriend.  You weren’t the happiest couple in the world, yet you were somehow glued to his hand.  When we would sit in the stands and watch the other bands marched, you, me, and the rest of the middle school kids would sit together until the high school kids came and you would hang out with him.  One of my best friends at the time would make fun of him because apparently he was caught masturbating in the school bathroom.  Once, when your boyfriend was in the bathroom, my friend told you to smell his hand when he came back and to tell him if it was, for some reason, incredibly soft.  I didn’t know why he did it, but I like to think that he did it because he knew I liked you.  Eventually, you guys broke up and you hardly ever talked to him again.  I never knew why, and I never asked.  After that, you never had another boyfriend the entire time you were there.  Sometimes, I think you were secretly waiting for me to make a move, but you should have known that I was a pussy. 
         The Christmas concert came and went.  I’m not sure what you wore, but I would bet money you looked beautiful.  Over Christmas break, we didn’t see each other, but every day I wished I could.  Finally, we went back to school, and I went back to you.  Normally during the first few minutes of band, we would warm up before our teacher started class, but not that day, or even the following day.  We talked.  I don’t remember what we talked about, maybe it was what we got for Christmas, maybe not, but whatever we talked about, I enjoyed it, and hopefully you did too. 
         During the next semester, we never talked outside of class, mainly because we didn’t have a class together.  But when we were in that band room, we were almost always talking together, or in a group.  One time, you and I were talking with someone else when a friend of ours came up and gave you a guy’s phone number.  You politely declined and apologized to the person, which made me always wonder what you would have said if I tried to give you my number. 
         The final semester of middle school finally came and that usually meant three things for the band: The end of the year concert, some competition that we would always do, and the yearly trip.  I don’t remember the concert or the competition, but I do remember the trip.  It was to a theme park just a couple of hours away from us.  We were only at the park for a few hours and I had an incredible time hanging out with my friends.  But of all the laughs and adrenaline pumping moments, nothing compared to when you hugged me.  I was waiting for my friends to get something to drink when someone called my name.  I turned and saw that it was you, soaking wet from the water ride from moments before and had on a smile only you could pull off.  You ran to me, and before I knew it, threw your arms around me.  Slowly, I put my arms around you, and I have to admit, you were a perfect fit for my embrace.  Almost as soon as it happened though, it ended.  We talked about something, but I couldn’t concentrate on that when I just wanted you back in my arms.  For the rest of the day, I had an extra spring in my step. 
         The school year ended and we went our separate ways for the time being.  I don’t remember what you did, but I played baseball for most of the summer.  That is, until I landed in the hospital.  I woke up one night with an incredible pain in my abdomen.  At first I thought I was just hungry, but after it happened a second time, I knew something was wrong.  My mom ended up taking me to the hospital where they diagnosed me with appendicitis.  It was a simple procedure that ended up almost costing me my life.  In the end, I was okay, but I had a brand new scar that covered most of my stomach.  During the month and a half that I was in the hospital, I wished I could call you and tell you how I was, but then again, I didn’t know if you knew.  A few weeks after I got out of the hospital, I went to freshman orientation for high school.  I was able to walk at that point, albeit just for a while.  I was in the auditorium with my mom and her boyfriend and we had to sit through some speech the principal gave.  After it was over, I steadily climbed out of my chair and turned to leave, and there you were.  You had your hair down and I could see in your eyes that you were genuinely concerned.  We stood there for what seemed like an eternity until you said, “I heard you were dead…”  I told you a brief account of what happened and showed you my scar.  A few moments after that, your parents called for you.  Before you left, you smiled at me and told me that you were glad I wasn’t dead.  I don’t remember what I replied with, probably something like, “I’m glad too,” or, “I’m happy you’re not dead.”  I watched you walk away, and I knew that it was going to be the year that I would grow a pair and ask you out.  But life is never that nice. 
         The first day of school came and by that time I was fully recovered.  That first day went alright, until the last class of the day.  You were in it, so almost automatically, it was my favorite class.  In that class, we grew closer than ever before.  Being in that class with you was the perfect way to end the school day and we would often walk to the band room together after school ended. 
         I was content with what we had, but I wanted more.  So, gradually I built my confidence up so I could tell you how I felt.  Every day for almost two weeks I would fight myself on whether or not to ask you out, ask for your number, or even ask you if you liked me, but I was too late.  One day in the middle of our class together, you told me that your parents were moving.  My entire existence hurt when you told me, but despite that, I kept my composure.  During those last days with you, I would smile and tell you that it would be alright, but the corners of my lips were heavy and I almost couldn’t hold them up.  Looking back at it, I wish as soon you told me that, I would have just spilled my guts to you, asked you to spend the last weeks with me, hand in hand, just so I could know the way your lips tasted against mine, or even just the knowledge that we were once together.  But it never happened.
         Finally, your last day came.  No parties were thrown for you, everyone told you they would miss you, and we had our last class together.  You looked so beautiful that day that I almost couldn’t look at you.  As class was about to be dismissed, we talked with another friend of ours.  You were telling each other how much they would miss each other and that sort of stuff, but I wasn’t paying much attention.  When class ended, we walked down to the band room where I got my trombone and you got yours for the last time.  You were out the door before me because I had to turn a paper in, but as I left the band room, you were coming back in.  As I walked by you, you turned around and called my name.  When I turned around, you told me goodbye.  I wish I could say that I dropped my trombone and my bag where I stood, ran to you, told you how I felt and how much I didn’t want you to go, and kissed you for the first and last time.  But in reality, I slowly walked backwards and told you goodbye.  As I turned around, I could have sworn I saw you frown for the second time in my life. 
         I never realized that a seat could look empty even if someone else sat in it, or that playing the trombone would never feel the same, or that no one could laugh like you. 
         It was hard at first; adjusting to life without her, but eventually I had my first girlfriend, then my second, then my third, then my fourth, and then my fifth.  They were great and eventually I forgot all about you. Right around the fifth year mark for the scar I have on my stomach, I thought about you and how you thought I was dead.  I don’t know why I thought about it, but I’m glad I did.
         Those first few nights after I remembered you, I couldn’t sleep that well.  It almost seemed that every time I blinked, an old memory would play like a movie projector against my eyelids, and I could actually remember the time we had together.  Because I never wanted to talk to anyone about you, I would talk to the moon in the vain hope that somehow my voice would bounce off of it, travel back down, and reach you somehow.  I always said positive things because I always remember how much of a positive person you were.
         I wonder how you are sometimes.  I think about where you went after we said goodbye, if you graduated high school, if you went to college, or if you have a job and you’re making a lot of money.  I wish that you have found someone that makes you feel as beautiful as I remember you and makes you smile every day.  If not, then don’t worry, you’ll find the right guy.  And if you ever do read this, then maybe we can grab some lunch sometime. 
         When I dream about us meeting up somewhere, I often wonder if I could actually recognize you, or if you could recognize me.  I shudder at the possibility that we were in the same room at the same time, and I couldn’t tell who you were.  The thing I fear the most, is that you’re dead and what I’m writing now will never reach you.  But if you are alive and you never read this, then that’s okay too, because no matter what, just like you always told me, it will be okay.