Forever and Always

Alma

|You've got a new message from a.rivera|

This isn't something I tell everybody, or something I'll openly admit, but I bought your book and I read it about three times and I got a fake email account through which I follow your weekly posts. I've never written any comments, though. I'm sure you thought you would never know anything about me, as if I'd disappeared, and I had that idea for a while, but then I thought it would be even better to make this grand comeback. Instead, I had to settle with an email because life had other, less interesting plans for us.

I've been thinking about us a lot, about the time we spent together and about the feeling I get when you're around. And I've got to a conclusion. I think that in the end we kind of do belong together, I mean, I manipulated you by telling you I loved you and you cheated on me with my brother and ran away. We're both screwed up, we're both in debt with each other. And we'll find a way to repay our debts, if not this year, maybe next year, if not in this life in another life. People who belong together always end up together.

I must say, though, and I'd understand if you don't believe me, that I meant it when I said I loved you. I did. I do. I know you weren't ready to hear it and I'm not even sure I was ready to say it but it was true back then, I realized it as the words left my mouth.

I'm not a person who falls in love easily. I like the idea of people being in love with me, I'm in love with the idea of people not being able to picture a life that I'm not a part of. That being said, I'm constantly disgusted by strong feelings, I avoid them, and I grow easily tired of people who are too intense.

When I told you I loved you I was trying to test you, I wanted to see how much you wanted me, how badly you wanted us to happen. I would fake feeling hurt if you didn't say you loved me back, and I would start acting strange if your answer was something along the lines of me too and then when the summer was over, I would dump you and never see you again. Either way, the plan was to break your heart, but you went ahead of me and ended up winning at the game I had created. It seems twisted, and it sure is wrong, I know, and I'm neither trying to justify myself nor I'll apologize for acting the way I do; I'm just pouring out my every thought for you to understand me. You owe me at least that bit, you broke my heart, remember?

Yes, you broke my heart, and I loved every single minute of it. I loved remembering how I looked at the star tattoo on your neck as you slept, how I blew softly to remove the hair from that area and how sometimes I kissed you there, and the feeling, the tingling, wouldn't leave my lips for days. It's amazing how much of a heavy sleeper you are, it was as if you couldn't feel my touch, I wonder if you'd feel someone, if there's a person lucky enough to be able to wake you just by placing a hand on your hip at night.

I loved the way I was woken up by a sudden movement when you were about to leave, as if you wanted me to know you were running away. As if you wanted me to stop you.

I wouldn't have, even if I knew that you were walking out on me, not because of that cliché about letting the person you love free. I wouldn't have stopped you because I don't beg, I don't even ask. I demand, I get people to do what I want them to do and when they don't, they are no longer of any use, so I shun them, I condemn them to exile. But you didn't even give me the chance to kick you out. No, you upped and left, and you even woke me up and told me you'd be right back. Was the lie really necessary?

You could have just taken advantage of my drowsiness to tell me the truth and run away feeling like you at least did the right thing, telling the girl who'd just said she loved you that you were ditching her because you couldn't deal with the guilt of having slept with her brother behind her back. By the way, I know you slept with him, or else you wouldn't have felt so guilty. People don't leave the ones they love for a simple kiss, it doesn't really work that way.

I don't know what was in the letter you left for my brother, but it must've been something really harsh because he didn't go back to the house all summer. He stayed in his apartment, and only left to the club where he worked. Why am I saying this as if you didn't know he worked at a nightclub? That's where you met, how could I have forgotten? Anyway, I think he did love you, and probably he even said the words and that's why you freaked out and decided to leave. It makes sense, doesn't it? That you felt overwhelmed and overcome by feelings and, seeing that you couldn't just be with one of us and ditch the other one, you left us both. It's courageous and also sort of stupid, assuming that position in which you'd rather have both of us hating and resenting you than live a lie. It's sort of unflattering, although I must say I never thought you could be capable of pulling one like that, and you even added an extra touch by leaving your suitcase behind.

As soon as my parents were back at the house, my brother told them he'd decided to go to Valencia where he'd been offered a job as a wedding photographer. I don't know if that's true, but what I know is that he's living with Isabel and they're both happy. I know he's happy because he's decided to forgive me and wants us to be close again, although I'm pretty sure I won't be getting an invitation to stay over at their apartment anytime soon.

He's forgiven me and he's moved on, and I've forgiven you, although as I said at the beginning of this letter, I think we both screwed up and I think we're even. We both hurt each other, and I know I'm being blunt, and I know that reading these words hurts, but I'm not holding back because I think that by saying everything there is to say we can really free ourselves from this guilt we're living in.

You said that you weren't going to contact me and that's why I'm the one who's reaching out for you. We're more than what happened over the summer, we're more than sloppy kisses and empty promises. And we owe it to ourselves to be better than that. You got closure from the letter you sent me, well, let me get closure.

I hope that if all this has taught you something is that people rarely meet the love of their lives when they're eighteen, especially after graduating high school, and girls rarely end up marrying the first girl they fall in love with. I hope you find a nice guy and you fall in love with him and get married someday, and maybe you'll tell him there was a summer when you thought you were into this girl but ended up cheating on her with her brother because, oh well, turns out you're not into girls and never will be.

And deep down you'll know that even if that's true you'll always be into me.

Your Alma.