meant to be yours | d.w

38

"To love another is something like prayer and can't be planned"

June 31st 1964

6 months before the accident

We always met after the sun had set.

It was always easier that way. Then, we wouldn't have to deal with judgment. The cruel glares, the words being tossed our way.

Although I will say these cruelties were mainly aimed towards Meghan, I couldn't help it. I felt like a helpless coward. The way I merely stood there, allowing them to call her those names.

So often would she keep her stance firm, keeping me at arms length, not allowing me to advance any further. I remember that way she looked at me, as if she wanted to do a million things, but there was just never an option to.

There was this one day I like to look back on in particular, we were wrapped into each other, two girls from completely different backgrounds laying down as one entire soul.

I don't know what caused my infatuation with people I could never truly have, but Meghan was the start of it all. The beginning of my railroad track, in a sense.

She was the first person I looked at in a way of admiration. The girl I looked forward to look at in the morning when she would sneak into my room, climbing into the bed with me until dawn would break up the darkness.

She would always wipe away my tear stained skin and I always felt guilty that I couldn't return the favor. But she would wave me off whenever I would mention it.

Then there was that day, that day precisely six months before Meghan' death.

In truth, it wasn't all that long ago. But with all the events that happened in between, it feels as if that summer day was ages ago.

She kept her arms gripped tightly around my waist as I steered the wheel of the bike, her hands filled with calluses due to her job, but they were still ever the more beautiful.

She, was beautiful.

"Go faster you coward." She teasingly yelled. She was always up for an adrenaline rush.

"Say your prayers." I hollered in return.

We fell to the ground minutes later, but after the grunts and moment of pain, we came to the realization of just how idiotic we were.

We sat on the dirt ground, our faces at eye level, for a moment we said nothing. Only her eyes said everything. They danced this incredulous game that intrigued me, those light brown eyes.

"Promise you won't listen to a dumb idea like that again?"

At the time, I didn't realize the impact of my response in the slightest. We lived far too often on promises we knew we could never keep. For it was only a matter of time before our worlds came crashing down.

"I promise."

My eyes shot open like a million stars that had gotten divided in the night sky. For my eyes had widened only moments after I realized what I had done.

The dreams were back.

The memories, everything is being inflicted back into my soul and I can't do anything to stop it now. For my internal epiphany keeps its demands running smoothly. I am stuck.

The house was ghost silent. For by now, Kristy was at work and Will was at school. School.

Shit.

I remembered that Cherry said she would pick me up today since my car was at the stop (courtesy of Sodapop himself). Sodapop was trading in a few parts that had broken down. He often calls my car a "train wreck," to this I respond with telling him it's a "classic."