One by one the tears slowly roll off my cheek and onto the paper that lay beside me. A note it was, written by him a few months back. His handwriting was sloppy, but it still showed the emotion he felt while writing the letter. A goodbye note should never have happiness behind it, but this one did. He remembered every little detail of me, he knew my weaknesses, how I talked, ate and slept and he knew where every freckle was on my body. Pure love flowed through this letter. This was his way of saying goodbye to the world, and not only me; a goodbye to his friends and family. He wrote about his memories and the pain he has suffered. All he wanted to do was get away from the life he lived in Coopersburg. He wanted to travel the world all by himself, he wanted to live alone; forever and ever he would say. It was a thought that was reoccurring in my dreams; he would leave me all alone when the time came. I didn’t expect it to be so soon.

After the crying had slowed down I was willing to think about him more. I loved him and he loved me back. We were meant for each other; we were soul mates. Only a few months have passed without him here. Finishing the note made me want to cry even more, but my body had stopped me. “I guess you only have a certain amount of tears,” I spoke out loud. I lightly placed the note back in the shoebox, and then ever so lightly, I pushed the box out of sight. Under my bed it would stay hidden away from the outside world, the darkness took hold of the box; it would pause time so I may allow myself to relive this moment.

I looked up to see the perished flower still lying on my bed from which the shoebox it came. It was placed ever so lightly on his goodbye note. It was meant for me, as I knew. It was memory fading in my mind. The day we first started our journey together; a rose he placed on my desk freshman year. It was a symbol of care, hope and happiness; he was the first person I saw on my birthday. He smiled at me, a hug soon followed, as well as a wishing me a Happy Birthday; he was the only one who remembered. I walked into Base camp to find the rose on my desk. It lay there untouched an angel laid down looking like it; I looked up to find everyone staring at me. I picked it up and carefully touched the red rose petals. They were soft like a newborn puppies fur.

The rose meant a thousand times to me than any other flower could of. I picked up the rose and carried it to my windowsill laying it softly down, careful enough to not break the petals off.

Still crying I opened my balcony doors to see the sun start to set. I stood and watched as the sun slowly slipped away from view, but today it felt different to me; like he was watching the very same sunset as I, but we were only hundreds miles of part. The view was the same as our first kiss that early September night. We watched it turn black slowly while talking about our dreams only a year ago; it seemed longer now. It was hard for me to think about our past memories together, it only brought me to tears again. Embarrassed by myself I returned to my bedroom closing the door behind me. It was senior year, supposed to be filled with memories of friends and good times, while mine was only filled with regret and lost memories.


My room resembled my personality; a large space with bright lighting, pictures of happy times everywhere, friends filled my walls, and memories covered the ceiling. A sofa lay against the far wall only waiting for someone to sit on, instead of a storage space for my clothes. My bed, covered in white sheets and a lavender blanket, sat in the middle. My room was my masterpiece, it was my sanctuary, my inspiration for my short stories; it also happened to be the hardest memory to face of him. Spending long hours together behind closed doors only to find each other’s laughs as a way to be pulled back to reality. We used to just write and write about what our lives could have been like together, the adventures we would go on and the interesting people we would meet.

All of this we would do together while laying on the sofa, or under the fort we built of my sheets; a pillow floor would be our comfort from the hard wood beneath us. Writing came naturally for both of us, we were shy in public and our writing was our way of having an opinion on life. We acted like young children while we were with each other; both young at heart. Childish movies would fill our times together. Once we covered the newer pieces of Disney we then moved on to the classics. Our relationship was based off of a fairytale we were both hoping to live in.

The daylight was soon gone, the smell of fresh cut grass wafted throughout my room, the only thing I was able to see was a street lamp lighting my room from below. My room was covered in long stretched out shadows that covered my walls form the baseboard to the ceiling. I crawled into bed hoping he would come back to me, lay next to me, his warm body pulsing next to me, and it would push me off into a deep sleep.

I woke up to the sounds of birds chirping, and the smell of chocolate overcoming my senses. It was a magical thing to have a chocolate factory only a mile away from my house. Early spring allowed me to sleep with my windows open, allowing that morning breeze to blow through my room and the cold air nip at my nose. Rolling out of my bed, I wandered my way down the steps to the kitchen where my mother and father sat talking about the local news as they sipped at their matching coffee mugs. A normal family, we would be labeled, but I guess I was the only one out of the ordinary. I, being myself, thought about how I could die in every situation I put myself in. I didn’t have dreams; I have only ever had nightmares, and every night I found out a new way that I could die. Screaming, crying and being out of breath is a normal way for me to wake up.


Everything has gotten worse since he left me. Sometimes I would end up calling him in the middle of night crying, and he would always be there for me. I miss the way he would drive over at 2 in the morning, and crawl into bed with me. I went for help once on this issue, while it didn’t help, it made my parents see that I wasn’t mentally okay. This diagnosis showed my parents exactly that I was afraid to be alone; they gave him a key so they could sleep away the night without a worry about me.


As usual they greeted me with a peppy “Good Morning!” I glared at them showing a sign of annoyance. A normal day would soon follow. Getting up every morning was a challenge I had to face. It was a Saturday I would soon hope to forget; it was his birthday. I would hold him today and kiss him, only if he was here. Eighteen he would be, younger than me he was, but being an older brother, would make up for his maturity.

After grabbing a piece of bagel, I wandered my way back to my room; a second flight of wooden steps took most of my energy away from me. I liked living on the third floor; it was like my own sanctuary. Two floors separated my bedroom from my parents. Such a separation allowed my young heart to blast the newest songs without a care from my parents.


I enjoyed being alone most of the time. Being still torn apart from being left alone, I lost most of the closer friends to me. I went through this period of time where I didn’t want to talk to anyone, not even my parents. The pain was just too much to handle. Everything I saw or did was an aching reminder for my heart that he decided to leave me, leave everyone in fact. He gave up on all of us… on his life; he was done with everything he suffered through. He couldn’t handle the pain or the suffering everyone put him through. He was always judged on his decisions, the way he acted, and his grades. He was very smart, but school did not illustrate that fact. He wasn’t book smart but it didn’t matter to me, he was common sense smart and that gave him a certain trait I liked. On the outside, he was a blank sheet of paper, but on the inside the sharpie colors of his personality drew all over that piece of paper.

The last flight of stairs leading to my bedroom was always the hardest for me to walk up. A pain grew inside me each step I took. Looking into my open bedroom, I could see everything; nothing was hidden from the human eye. An open slate, my room was just like myself. He was a shy guy who only could be his real self while at certain places. I had my heart set on him though it didn’t matter. I only have ever wanted him, his secret crush turned into a mutual feeling between us. He was the sun in my life. When he left I turned into a nervous wreck, half of my heart ripped from me at the seams.

I learned young that I push people away, but if they really cared they would have understood where I was coming from. I pushed him away, and he took it as a sign that I stopped caring. He could have called me every word in the book, ignored me, moved away, but I would still think about him as much as I did when he was standing next to me.

Certain times in my life come when I miss something so much; I try to relive the memories. I remember the sweet texts he would send, and I would spend the rest of the night rereading them over and over again.


We used to fight occasionally, and some of the words he said to me broke me in two. It felt like the devil took his claws and tore me down the middle, breaking every bone in my body at the same time. My body wouldn’t go into shock; I would just have to deal with it. “F*** you. I’m done. Have a boring life b****.” He said after our worst fight; I reread that one text over and over. Pausing at each word I would, studying each letter wondering how I could have ever started the fight. How could I do this to him? I promised to be there. Forever and ever we said. I just had a bad day, he pointed out every flaw of me. Took my life, and put it into money terms, he cursed me out. Everything he said brought me to tears.


The tears rolled off my cheek and onto my phone that rested in my hands in front of me. I kept crying for hours after he stopped responding to me. The sobs took control of my body; shaking in fright, not being able to breathe, letting my mind run out every detail of the fight again, my face turned pink and puffy. I let the tears roll of my cheeks, and hit my phone leaving stains of dry marks on the screen. I would occasionally bury my face into my pillow trying to muffle the sobs and slow my breathing.
I woke up the next morning with an hour of sleep dragging my eyelids closed. The mascara stains were a reminder of the events that occurred and the words that were said. Those stains still remain to this day randomly covering that light blue pillowcase lying on my bed. I didn’t know what was to happen when we caught me looking at him. I passed him in the hallway twice every day and we were in the same base camp. He was late every day, and my heart would drop every time he walked into the room.


He wasn’t himself in school; a fish out of water you could say. He felt like an outcast at school, always feeling like he was being judged on what he has done, instead of what he could do in the future. He never looked at me, not a single glance would come my way or a word would be spoken. I was always too afraid to start it, to afraid to be categorized as an obsessing girl over a guy who never liked her.


I got dressed in shorts and an old baggy concert tee, put on my Nikes and made my way to the garage. My father who asked me questions of my plans for the day stopped me; like normal it was he asking me where I was going. I answered with saying I was going to the mall. Truth is I didn’t actually know where the road would take me. I got into my Jetta and backed out of the garage onto the driveway. Living in the woods had its pros, but my favorite was the privacy of it all. The driveway being a mile long, you could fly and not worry about anything for that short moment in time.


Driving took my mind of things; I used to take these drives that would take me far away from civilization. Gone for days without a worry, my parents were used to it, and understood sometimes one just needs to get away from everyone. Ending up in the woods hundreds of miles away from cell phone service.


There was this one time that, while we were together, we took an unexpected drive to the beach, which turned into being a week stay on the beach. We had no worries while we were there, we were happy together. Getting away from people brought us closer together; we never judged each other. We were ourselves. Being reminded of the beach, I drove through town where it all started.


Our town was small enough to drive through in a matter of two minutes. Main Street was lined with older looking houses connected together by brick wall to brick wall. An Ice cream shop, marking the middle, was the only reason to actually drive into town. This place was the center of social outings outside of the school. Every Friday night, the town was filled with students and young children running around enjoying ice cream and the live bands that were unknown by the world but where the music orbs of our lives.


A dirt road kept calling my name, a narrow road only eight feet wide leading to the woods behind the ice cream shop. Tall trees stood at the entrance to the woods; marking ancient woodland. The road continued far back leading deeper and deeper into the woods. It cleared to an opening 23 miles from where this all started. Tall grass marked an open field inside these hidden woods.


The grass blew back and forth like a crowd at Woodstock. The smell of vast openness and fresh air hit me when I stepped out of the car. I decided to wander into the grass and see where it could lead, I was hoping for an adventure to occur, to find something that I have never experienced before. Wandering through the grass only lead me to an even bigger field, the grass cut short, but a tree stood in the middle. A lone tree covered in green leaves grew in the middle without anything around it. I walked up to the tree and leaned against it, settling down by the roots I stared at the clouds passing by.

I startled myself awake only to notice that from a distance away smoke was merging out of tops of some trees. Curious to explore further into the mysterious land I made my way in the direction of the smoke. Only to soon did I find myself hiking up paths made by dear and climbing up rock ledges that bulged out of the Earth. I climbed the last rock to find a wooden cabin half glass falling off the side of a rock. Large glass windows looked out at the woodlands, not a single building insight.
A man walked out from a side door cautiously watching me.
“I’m sorry, I was just rock climbing and then I got up here and saw your house; I was just leaving.”
“No problem I understand, would you like a drink?” the mysterious man asked.
“Sure, I got time I guess.”
This man was probably around the age of twenty, he was on the shorter side for a man of his age but it didn’t affect his attractiveness. He had long blonde hair that flipped out from his head at the ends. He had the surfer body and the look, a tank top and board shorts covered most of him. It was strange he was dressed this way because there wasn’t a beach near by. I mean seriously we were 45 miles outside of Coopersburg the place where everyone talks about leaving but never actually does.
Stepping inside his house went against everything I have ever followed in my life. Never talk to strangers my mom used to tell me; I guess she might need to remind me after I get home. The house was beautiful in the inside it felt very homey; a large sofa covered the one side of the main room but still left some space to play on the other side. A double fireplace was centered in the room as the visual looking point of the room. The kitchen was more of the log cabin style; large oak cabinets covered to the ceilings and dark granite covered the island. He walked over to the fridge and pulled out ice tea.
“You’re a fan, right?” he questioned.
“Ha-ha, of course I am who doesn’t love ice tea?!?!” I said as I giggled.
Two glasses appeared from an upper cabinet both in his left hand; carrying the pitcher with the other he made his way onto the deck where a large glass table with spinning chairs stood. After a long conversation about the scenery that the deck overlooked, we ended with how I stumbled my way up here. Looking at my phone that didn’t have a bar of service I read that it was 8:30 at night. I said my goodbyes, and my appreciation for his hospitality. After asking which where I came from he decided to help me find my car and was curious about this open field being magically placed in the middle of some woods. We made our way down a less angled slope on the opposite side of the house then I came in on. We walked for a short amount of time when he blurted out that he wanted to show me something.
Tingles shot up my spine followed by me shivering as his hand grabbed mine and pulled me behind a tree and then deeper into the woods. The brush was so thick if he wasn’t holding onto me I would of lost him and wouldn’t of known where I was. All I could hear was the sound of water trickling down the trees around me. As we emerged I found the source of the noise; a waterfall was strategically placed, the water created a deep pond at the bottom a 50 foot drop from a flat rock above placed far enough away from the cliffs that I jump wouldn’t kill you.
“Come on!” he shouted at me as I was dazing at the mystically sight in front of me.
He was standing on the rock above without his shirt off and quickly ripping his sneakers off.
“How’d you get up there so quick?!” I shouted over the sound of the water falling.
I soon found the answer to my question; a large hill covered in moss lead the way to the top.
“Are you going to jump?!” I shouted.
“What?” he said.
“Are you going to jump?!” I shouted once again as he back flipped off of the rock
His body hit the water so gracefully not an ounce of pain was suspected. He climbed out of the water directly in front of me as I sat on a rock.
“Have you been here before?” I questioned him as he sat in front of me dripping.
“Yeah, I climbed that tree and put a rope swing in it over there.” He pointed to a large tree next to the pond.
“Do you want to try it?” he questioned while walking over to the tree.
My heart started beating out of my chest as his last words were spoken. This was my chance to live to try something new. I’ve been a plain boring human since he left; he was my extreme side of my personality, when he left half of me died with his silence.
I took off my shoes and walked my way over to the tree where he was patiently waiting for my reaction.
“You okay?” he said.
“Couldn’t be better.” I whispered.
Nervous I was, nervous enough to faint. He handed me the rope, grasping with both hands I closed my eyes and jumped. It felt like I was flying, the air whipping around me blowing my hair behind me.
“Let go!”
Without hesitation I released my grip and slowly fell to the glass water under me. Hitting the water from such a height stung the base of my feet but it was a pleasing cool that soothed the pain. Popping out from under the water I saw him standing there watching me with his blue eyes almost as bright as the water itself.
“Hurry up we have to find shelter the clouds are rolling in and there’s a shift in the wind.”
“Wait what do you mean? It’s just a little breeze passing through. It’s just a summer breeze cooling off the air.”
A boom of thunder shook the earth under me as I grabbed my shoes. He was right it was windier than usually and the gray clouds covered the sky making the light fade to dark.
“Where are we going to go?”
“There’s a cave this way” as he pointed into the opposite direction we came.
We made our way towards the direction of the cave, the trees beginning to sway with the wind made me realize I lost my sense of direction. I would loose my way in the woods and be lost for the rest of my life.
We both shared the love of spring storms, the feeling of the wind kissing our faces and that smell of oncoming rain.