𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 - 𝐁.𝐄

twenty three - forever&more

•
julia.
•

august 8th, 11:58 p.m.

both of my hands were buried deep into the front pocket of my oversized navy blue essentials hoodie, my fingernails were withering and fidgeting together, clawing at the skin around my other fingernails. it was a nervous habit that i could never break, it's just happens whenever my mind spun in circles. all my thoughts were colliding, the what-ifs clung to me like the dampness of the early morning dew that still lingered on the windows and in the air all throughout the day, and fading into the next.

i hadn't even bothered with shoes. the grass beneath my feet was cool and slightly slick, the wetness being from the aforementioned dew hadn't yet burned off with the day's rays of sunshine. i could feel the slight chill of the grass seep through the soles of my feet, but it wasn't enough to bother me. my thick hoodie draped around my shoulders, the fabric heavy and comforting, kept me just warm enough in this breezy and chilly night, seeming to also keep my mind from spinning out completely.

the hood stayed down and rested along my shoulders, my soft brown hair catching in the light breeze that whispered throughout the night. it was gentle and cool, but of course, not too cold.

i had paired the hoodie with some blue striped linen shorts—the ones billie had once worn, her body wrapped in the fabric that now clung to my own. they weren't just shorts anymore, they had history now. new memories seemed to be sewn into every stitch. they had once been hers. they had hugged her hips, pressed against her thighs, and touched the curve of her ass. something i'd never get to call my own. they had once been a part of her, and now, they were back on me.

literally if i could, i'd live in these shorts. i'd never take them off because somehow, wearing them felt like i was keeping her close, like i was wrapping myself in a piece of her that she'd left behind. i blame it on the uncertainty, the unknowing when or if i'll see her again, and how things may be then. i just imagine and yearn, that's all i seem to be doing these days, especially when it comes to her—wishful thinking.

i couldn't help but imagine that maybe one day i'd get another piece of her—maybe that shirt she wore on the boat ride. or maybe the black zip-up she had on one of the first times i'd ever laid eyes on her. it was stupid, childish even, but i couldn't stop wanting more of her. i wanted to collect the pieces of her she left behind. its a strange way of holding onto her when she wasn't there, or in the near future where i'll be in college and she'll be on tour.

but even now, as i stood on the cusp of midnight while my fingers still wouldn't stop their nervous dance, tracing invisible patterns inside my pocket like i was trying to soothe myself into some semblance of calm, i still kept walking.

my steps were light and careful as i made my way to the dock. as i approached, the wood beneath my feet felt worn and familiar, and i could hear how it creaked softly under my weight. i could hear the small waves lapping and splashing onto my boat in the near distance. the night around me was quiet, except for the occasional splash of the waves and the not-so-steady beat of my own heart in my ears.

to my dismay, yet again, she wasn't there. the dock stretched out before me, completely empty. the water beyond it was still and dark, reflecting the scattered stars above. i swallowed hard, glancing down at my wrist and at my watch that read 11:59. one minute before midnight. i know that the words not a minute before and not a minute later were once said. that's just the ideal, to get here on the exact time, but i still am on time. i always am. but was she going to be?

did she bring me here just to leave me standing alone in the night? to leave me feeling foolish and small, leaving me exposed to the dark like some lovesick idiot just to point and laugh? all for pure, cruel, sick entertainment?