Mail Tag #2: A confession (real or made up):

The day we went to see Fergie in Rumpelstiltskin, after I walked you back to your door, after I hugged you and said, "Bye, Pegg" and you shut the door, I walked back to the fence, latched it, and burst into tears.

I wanted to turn around, but I didn't. I got in my car. I cried some more. I was basically Diane after she and Lloyd break up in Say Anything. I wanted to get out of the car and go back to your door.

I drove off. I got to the lights at Old Dewdney and desperatedly wanted to make a U-turn and go back and knock on your door. I wanted you to open it, surprised, and I wanted to hug you again, and I really really wanted to say something better than "Bye, Pegg."

And it's funny - I didn't cry when you left for school. But I did back in the spring, when you were sick, and absent a lot. Back then, it hit me: This is what it's going to be like not having her around. But when you left for Victoria, I was excited for you, and nervous and excited about Capilano, and it was all new for all of us, and I was optimistic.

But there I was, New Year's Day, alone in my car, crying. Because I missed you. Because I had forgotten how much I enjoy your company and just as I was beginning to remember, you had to go. Because I hate when you leave, and I'm no good at goodbyes, and because I've spent a semester without you and I know what it's like.

I know we make it work, and I know I get through it okay, and I know there are days when it fucking hurts for no reason. And it feels ridiculous sometimes, like I'm the girlfriend of a marine going back overseas. You have an allergy to sentimentality - I think I have an addiction to it.

So I guess that's my confession. I cried.

Funny, reading this now. Because the last time I saw you, I said, "Bye, Pegg," and I latched the gate, and I burst into tears. But that time, I had said exactly what I wanted to say. And I wanted to turn around, but I knew that I couldn't. That I shouldn't. One should not spoil a goodbye by turning around and taking it back.
Goodbye for now.