reverend_sen

It's 4:17 in the morning. I haven't been to bed yet. I hate nights like this because when I can't sleep my mind wanders and eventually I'll begin to think about her. Eventually she will overtake my mind and all hope of sleep will be lost. I got up and started reading my old letters that she had sent me. I keep them in a little box. If any of you have ever wondered about my "most humbling moment" it's true. Her name was April. She was my manager of my first job. It was probbaly when I was 17 I had just started working at alittle movie theatre around the corner from where I lived. It wasn't love at first sight. I remember when I met her I was just very nervous because she was interviewing me for the job. As time went on I thought of her as very odd. The first day we worked together she kept trying to have a discution with me over a book I had never read. The book was, you guessed it, Slaughter House Five by Kurt Vonegut. A book which I would later buy and read only for this reason. I of course had noticed she was attractive but had not given the fact much thought because she had in fact told me she was gay. Throughout my year working with her we spent alot of time together. I came to find she was smart as well as beautiful I loved everything about her, about her thought process she was so random and intriguing. She could quote Shakespere and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. She was smarter than me but most people with a GED are. She loved cartoons and acting childish. She was different and prided her self at being so. She hated normallity in all it's various forms. I left her behind when my mother died and I was forced to leave the state. It may seemed odd but I believe we actually became closer when we were apart. She had begun to tag "I Love Yous" at the end of her letters and phone calls , of which there were many. After a while the phone became opsolite as she was rarely home but we had both continued our letters sometime two or three a week. I had started to become aware of my feelings for her, which had escalated when she had told me she was considering the option of men. At the time I was living in New York and was scheduled to move to Chicago shortly. So before the move I took leave from work and went to visit her. I didn't get to see much of her while I was there because of her job. but I feel I squandered what little time I did have. Before I left I had purchased a ring. It was a silver ring with two triangles, one solid to represent myself and the other framing a set in aethyst. I should have noted it a bad omen that the two triangles were pointed in seperate directions. I had planned to give it to her as a proposal. So why, you may ask, did I feel the need to propose at the age of 19? Because she was the only person, the only thing that had ever made me happy, which remains true to this day. I gave her the ring at the water side on a cold day. But I couldn't say anything. All that came out was a stiefeled "here I got this for you". The day I left from that trip would be the last day I would ever see her. Iremember looking out the bus window and seeing her waving goodbye. I began to bawl. It was so painful. I remember feeling my body turning this drastic moment of mental pain into physical pain. I felt as though I was dying. My heart was hurting so bad I thought I was going to vomit. When I got to Chicago our letters resumed until one night . A night that I have always and fear will always regret. I had been going through a bout of depression the likes of which I had never seen. I had stopped sleeping staying up nights in a state of dillusion. I decided to write her a letter explaining myself. What was written down were psychotic ramblings that I couldn't even understand. Nothing reproachful or anything of that nature I assure. just the confussed scribbles of a very lonely young man. In the letter I tried to explain my feelings for her and that I had wanted to propose to her but I just didn't know how to word these things correctly. Before I could realize what I had done the letter had already been mailed. I had just ruined the greatest friendship I've ever had. I tried to call and explain, tried to tell her not to open the letter just to throw it away but I was too late. My heart sunk even lower when I recieved her next letter. She had sent it before she had recieved mine it stated that she was unhappy in Maine and was considdering moving out to Chicago so that she and I could share an apartment together. I had ruined it all. Good Night.