a n i m a

back then

 dedicated to zoe/zoe nycole/my spirit animal/fred/fred indecisiveson who is freaking amazing and talented and the best snapchat buddy ever. we're like connected man and I love her to pieces xo

"I don't wanna be sorry
I don't wanna give in
I just wanna remember what it was like back then."

☄☄☄☄

Your hair used to be pink. A faded dye hugging your long strands of hair and giving you that extra dose of confidence that pushed you to be wild. I used to tease you about it, saying it was cotton candy because the color matched it so exactly. Soon, you added light blue streaks, just for me.

I always loved the way it looked as it tumbled down your back, your ratty Doors t-shirt paired with your ripped jeans. You'd always throw my jean jacket on, leaving strands of your hair tucked inside and staring up at me with a mischievous glint in your eyes. And I swore I had never seen anything so beautiful.

You wore scuffed boots that your favorite local band had signed and every once in a while I'd catch you smoking in the parking lot. You had this courage inside of you, it was so strong and so heavy inside of you that every once in a while, you'd let it go. And I remember thinking that you had to be the craziest person I had ever met.

You were skinny and only about five feet and five inches- the perfect height to lean your head against my chest when we'd climb high into the tree in my backyard and watch the plains that flew through the sky from the airport across town.

You hated living there. You declared every time that you were going to leave, say good riddance to our town and go live in some rundown city with people who didn't know you- that you didn't know. You were so hungry for change and I saw it in your eyes when you watched those planes flying from the crook of my arm.

Your eyes were brown and your skin was creamy and soft beneath the pads of my fingers. You had this small, pouty mouth that made it so hard for me to keep from kissing you when you told me stories. And as I watched you walk up my driveway everyday, running to wrap you in my arms, I promised myself that one day I'd take you somewhere far away.

You were the type of girl who loved the adrenaline rush of sneaking out and getting your nose pierced without permission. But you were also the girl who got into three fights with guys two times your size because you were defending some poor kid they were picking on.

There are so many things that keep me missing you. So many that make it more heartbreaking for me to try and remember. But things that make me fall in love with you more each day even though I can no longer hold you. You had this fiery passion in you. And it inspired me to see you put it to use. You loved so greatly, but you hated to show it. 

I only ever told you the truth. All those times I told you you were the most amazing person I'd ever met and when I told you that I loved you, I was telling the truth. But you didn't believe me.

You loved my rusty old car and how I dressed with my black jeans and un-brushed hair. You loved my mom's spaghetti and our old dog Griffin. You loved the way the snow felt when it hit your skin and you loved the way the radio sounded when the channels would mold together, two songs playing at the same time.

You were everything, even though you said you were nothing. I understood you even though you claimed you were completely misinterpreted. I loved you even when you told me I didn't. And I wanted you even when you stated you were undesirable.

I still remember the day you pulled your hand from mine. It was dark and cold, my jean jacket slung over your Alice Cooper shirt and your boots slapping in the nearly dried puddles lining the streets. I had met you at your house and helped you climb out of your window. 

You had me bending over in laughter as we let the moonlight guide us. You were telling me about detention with Mr. Fredricks and how he sat on the thumbtack you had skillfully placed on his office chair. I listened when you told me about the flood in New York and the people that had been hurt and when you explained how you wanted so badly to be able to time travel.

And as I listened to your voice- that had become gravely from the concerts you attended nearly every weekend- I was filled with this strange feeling. It was strong and tight and completely perplexing, but it was nice.

And so I grabbed your hand and whispered, "I love you." I had said it a thousand times before, but you and I both knew that this time was different. My voice was choked, the words barely squeezing out and my chest overflowing in this warm yet ice cold feeling. You stopped, staring wide-eyed at the pavement. And suddenly, just as I was about to tell you again, you yanked your hand from mine and disappeared into the night.

I called you and waited for you after class. And you didn't ignore me, you just weren't yourself. And finally, the fogginess of my brain caused me to pull you outside right before the bell for lunch rang. I pulled you under the awning by the side door of the school and looked down at you in desperation. I forced you to tell me what was wrong, asking persistently if it was something I did.

"It wasn't you," you muttered softly, staring down instead of into my eyes.

"Then what was it?" I asked, gripping your shoulders and begging silently for you to meet my gaze. It was a terrible feeling when I thought of you being mad at me or not wanting to talk to me. I missed your high-pitched singing and your continuous ranting and your adorable little laugh.

"I'm worried," you whispered, looking up at me. Your chocolate eyes were shining with unshed tears, causing my heart to clench. I didn't want to hear what you had to say. I didn't want you to act the way you were. I wanted to climb back up in my tree and hold you tight at my side. I wanted you in my arms but instead your miles from my grasp.

"Worried about what?"

"About us, that we just don't feel the same," you mumbled, lightly running your hand over my chest.

"What does that even mean?" I questioned, my chest becoming heavy and making it hard for me to breathe. With a loud sigh, you stepped away from me, causing my hands to fall to my sides as I stared down at you.

"You don't get it." And with that, you walked away.

Since then I've looked at countless pictures, piles of them lying around and taunting me. There's this one that I keep close to me when I'm home. It's of you and I at a party, both of our foreheads covered in sweat from dancing at a show. And the reason this picture captivates me, makes it hard for me to move from the ache in my chest, is the look in your eyes. I'm standing to your left, my arm around your shoulders and pulling you to my side. I'm grinning at the camera in excitement, the flash causing my pupils to go red. But you're not looking at the camera, you're staring up at me. And the beaming grin on your face as you look at me, it stops my stuttering heart and makes me think that maybe- maybe- you loved me just as much as I love you.

I can't really remember what happened between us or where we went wrong. I replay your words sometimes when I'm laying in bed at night and can't seem to stop staring at your side to go to sleep. Because I need to know- to remember. But it's like an unsolvable riddle and no matter how many times I think over all of our moments together, I can't seem to solve it.

But I'm trying, because there's something that pushes me to keep going.

I love you too much to give up, Zoe. So I won't.

☄☄☄☄