Wednesday, March 5, 2014

When the Past Hits You in the Face like a Rabid Raccoon

I'm not going to lie. Sometimes I think about Robby. I wonder if he's doing well, or if he thinks about me. After two years, you'd think he'd stop tiptoeing to the forefront of my mind. Sometimes it makes sense, like missing that he would always be willing to drive any distance for me.

     His house was all the way on the other side of the hill. A measly ten miles, but took twenty minutes to drive. It was only seven in the morning, about three hours before he would even contemplate leaving his comfortable down feather pillows and surprisingly cozy spring mattress. I'm sure he didn't want to hear his phone ring. But it was my personal ringtone, so he answered.
                "I left my homework at home! I'm freaking out and I 
                 don't have any way of getting it! Both of my parents 
                  left for work and it's too far to walk and I need an A 
                  in this class and I don't know what to do!"
     What a way to start the day, huh? There was never a moment of resentment in his voice though.
                  "When do you need it by?"
                  "Third period, at 10 am."
                  "Okay, I'll be at the front office at 9:50. Calm down, 
                    everything will be okay."
     And at that point I thanked the heavens for such a patient man. For such a generous man. For he took that twenty minute trek to my house, then the five to my school, all before he even wanted to be conscious. Still in his pajama bottoms and an old Pink Floyd t-shirt his mom had given him to sleep in, he stood there yawning with my papers in his hand, waiting for me to get there. 

He may have been a monster at times, but I do miss his sweet and gentle side. And to hear that he's been hanging around Riverside... well... it just irks me so. He made the effort to keep in touch with his friends here. Friends, might I add, that helped me to get rid of him because of the mistreatment during the end of our miserable relationship.

I wish I could stay fantasizing that he yearned for me; that without me, he felt like less of a man.

But that would make me selfish right?

-Annie

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