That One Boy

That One Boy. You know the one. The one that makes you do crazy things, say crazy things and most of all, believe crazy things. He is like temporary insanity. Your system goes haywire and you loose all sight of reality. Yet each time you see his picture you develop amnesia and remember none of the crap, just that smile. It is a vicious cycle. So, who is my One Boy? He was the milk to my cookies, the meatballs to my spaghetti, the peanut butter to my jelly and now, he is a memory.Yesterday a friend called with urgency. They had something I had been hoping for. I myself didnt even know what I had been hoping for. She came in and looked as if she was going to tell me that someone had died. She reached into her purse and pulled out a plain white envelope. The last time I had seen a plain white envelope and a look of such nature upon someones face was in 1997, when the love of my life retrned my grandmothers wedding band into an envelope and left it on my car window breaking up with me. Here I was, 13 years later, almost 14, opening another plain white envelope, from the same boy, somewhat for the same reason. It felt like someone had died. Dreams died, old feelings died and a piece of me did as well. Over the 14 year long, drawn out sogga and drama of my One Boy, that ring was exchanged many times. Sometimes in teenage marriage proposals, sometimes in love, sometimes in anger, sometimes in regret but this time it was different. I am sitting here wearing it now. Remembering his hands, the oil and greese under his nails with the platinm peeking through. I think back to the moments where he hurt me. The night he choose his friends and alcohol over me and the night where he was too scared to tell me the truth, so he told me nothing. For 3 years I have wondered why he didnt just say it was over. I think back to that God awful night. I had flown 3000 miles to surprise him for his birthday. I always promised him I would be there for 30. Just the year before, he called from his birthday party with the karaoke man playing "Miss American Pie" in the background. I had to be there for 30. I got to the party location and there she was. A beautiful blonde standing next to him, it wasnt me. I couldnt ruin his day. I couldnt kick and scream. I went to the restroom and wiped the mascara from my cheeks. I reminded myself that I only promised to be there to watch him turn 30 and I had. I walked out the restroom door with my head down praying he didnt see me and SMACK I ran into him coming out of the mens restroom. He didnt speak. He didnt move. He stood there frozen like the night he first lied to me at the landing at the top of his creaky stairs. I smiled through my tears, literally, and touched his shoulder and whispered, "Happy Birthday Kiddo". I walked away. Part of me thought I should stay and fight, the other part said that if you love someone you should let them go. I let go. As best I could. I guess after all is said and done, all in all it wasnt a bad day. That One Boy has been many things to me over the years, but has never been my One Regret. Even after everything we had put each other through, I can still smile ever so slightly when I imagine him and what we were, what we could have been. I guess if it wasnt love, it was alot like love.