I sat on the floor of my closet. It was a summer when I still felt like a child, but wanted to be a grownup. I sat on the floor of my closet, resting on the clean carpet, sorting through old school memories. I can see the spot where I once spilled a bottle on glue and my teddy bear got stuck for a few days. That teddy bear is in the closet somewhere. Tipped over boxes flood half of my bedroom with yearbooks, photographs, study guides, and homework from elementary through middle school. Just barely a teenager the summer before sophomore year of high school, my head was full of big dreams to make a movie and go on road trips with friends who had just gotten their drivers licenses. These big adventures were still out of reach, but I was finding other adventures. Adventures through texting and what I thought was falling in love.
That day sitting on the floor of my closet, pretending I was too grown up to hold onto childhood toys and school papers, I was texting a girl. She had told me no more than two months before that she would be in Montana for the summer instead of five minutes from my home in Minnesota. We were friends at the time, but nothing special. We didn’t go to school together anymore, and I had never been to her house like you assume best friends do. I was mostly sad that she wouldn’t be around for the movie I wanted to make. I had no idea that when she left we would start texting almost constantly, and I would learn so much about myself that summer.
By July, we were a thing. Maybe not a dating thing or in-love thing because we were so many states apart and neither of us had told anyone else what we were up to. We were in high school, and I didn’t know how to talk about love and relationships yet. But we were a thing. A text from morning to night thing. A sending messages because something made us think of the other thing. A counting down the days to being in the same state again thing. This was my first relationship, so I didn’t really know what dating was like and especially not long-distance dating.
All I knew was that it was an amazing feeling to have someone I could tell everything to and plan a future with. It just happened that this person was also a girl.
I don’t remember much of the text message conversation that day on my closet floor except for the red wedding dress. I knew this girl wasn’t traditional, and she was gay so that was already pushing the boundaries of my teenage mind and our world at the time. When she told me that she wanted to get married in a red dress, I didn’t even question it. It was our normal. I thought she would be beautiful. The more we talked, the more I could see the vibrant red dress on her soft body, and I saw myself as slim and beautiful in a white dress.
The funny part was that I don’t remember being the little girl that dreamed of a big wedding and a princess ball gown. I don’t remember planning out a dream wedding until I met someone that made me think about myself as a bride.
A red wedding dress was a new idea for me, but it must have been done somewhere before. The next logical step in my mind was assuming that this red wedding dress would be for our wedding someday. We would be high school sweethearts, childhood best friends separated after middle school but in love nonetheless. I could see myself as a beautiful bride in white, holding hands with my beautiful bride in red. We messaged about where she had seen red wedding dresses before. She never gave me a reason why she wanted one so bad, and I don’t think I ever asked. We both just agreed that that would be the way things were for us. I felt content in the deepest way, like nothing could make me feel like I was floating higher or ever bring me down again. I sat on the floor of my closet, firmly planted in a crisscross-applesauce position, but feeling like I was reaching for the sun and moon and clouds and stars.
I sat on the floor of my closet, making no progress on sorting through the boxes. I was distracted by the thought of weddings and learning how to fall in love. I thought this rush and attention was what falling in love was. Accepting the fact that my girlfriend wanted a red wedding dress was just part of my love story. Like the ones you hear in radio pop and country songs.
I thought falling in love meant never falling out of love.
I wonder how many other people she talked to about a red wedding dress.
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 11:52 AM UTC
cats respond to
squeaky toys
the way you respond to
me
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 3:04 PM UTC
I don't want to
talk
to her
because these things shouldn't be a problem
how do I tell a girl who
literally whispers
about mental illness that she gives me
anxiety
every time I go back to the room and I don't know if she will be there or not
I'm not
afraid
to talk but I'm afraid of confrontation
I
try
to talk to you in the easiest way
by sending a text
and you don't reply
we are living in the same cubical sized
space
so we're gonna need to talk
and you're gonna need to speak up
Thank you for telling me my garbage can
full of paper
was getting molding
because you're trying to find an excuse for being sick
Thank you for never making your bed and
leaving your own two bags of garbage on the floor
Thank you for talking to your mom about me but not talking to me about me
Thank you for asking me about my schedule for next semester to make sure we aren't taking the same classes
but never telling me what you're taking
Thank you, actually thank you, for no longer locking the door when I go to shower
but not actually thank you for not making sure the door is locked before we fall asleep
It's not that I hate you
I just can no longer live with you
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 8:27 PM UTC
One wrong step
in something you love
and your world comes crashing down
shatters and scatters
you only hope you can gather all the pieces
You explain to friends
family
and almost family
we will all take care of you
The pounding persists
for hours
days
how much longer?
I wish I was a fortune teller
could see into our future
know the exact moment when we find the last piece
to put you together again
We have accepted that you
will never be 100% the same again
but I love you 100% the same way
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 10:50 PM UTC
How I know she didn't "love" me
(How I know she wasn't meant to be my lover)
She was cleaning off her books shelves
told me of all the stories that she loved
and how she was boxing them up
getting rid of them
and never once did she ask if I would keep some safe for her
She was picking paint colors for her bedroom
a room five minutes walking distance from mine
and never once did she ask me to come paint with her
She liked to be close
with everyone
in ways that she never once told me explicitly
baby, that's consent
She made lists of things that were important to her
to have in a lover
so I memorized how she takes her tea
but never once did she have tea with me
Never once did she call me
skype me
show up with a surprise
it was all texting
the rare date
she once let me borrow a book
so sure we have good memories too
but never once do I think back to her
and feel loved
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 12:19 PM UTC
I like fruity drinks
and sugary sweets
no wonder I'm so addicted to your lips
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC