Diner Diary #7: Letter to the girl with the smile I'll never forget
Hey Anna,
It's been a while. Like, what, 15 years? I think about you sometimes, mostly when I'm casting my thoughts back through my shitty attempts at love. I know we never dated; that we were just a handful of high school hookups, but honestly you were the kindest to me of everyone I've ever been with.
I'll probably always be confused about how it happened. One day you were just someone I knew, someone I said hi to. And the next you were straddling me on the soccer field trying to convince me not to be embarrassed of my breasts because you liked them.
I'd like to say that time and age are why the memories of our moments have mostly slipped out of my head but the truth is I spent years convincing myself I was something you did on a dare. I let the memories atrophy from lack of use. Even after finding out you spent all night of the last party of the year asking where I was, it still took a long time for me to realize the truth.
You actually wanted me. That's why you asked me to the winter dance.
You actually wanted me. That's why you dragged me into the library bathroom during lunch.
You actually wanted me. That's why you guided my hands under your shirt and kissed me gently when they shook.
You actually wanted me.
I never go on facebook anymore, and even if I did, I don't think I'd have the patience to scroll back to the only picture of us together that exists.
But I don't have to.
In my head I can clearly see us sitting at our table for dinner before the dance. There's teenage me smiling at the camera staring straight ahead. And to my right there's you, looking at me, tongue between your teeth and a sparkle in your eyes that took me years to understand.
You wanted me.
