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My ex-girlfriend slipped me a note during biology today. It was so strange, because we never talk. The last time we actually made contact was about a month ago, and that was out of sheer force. I didn’t know what to think or expect, I slowly unfolded the note and read, When don’t you have practice after school? I read it once or twice to make sure what was happening was real. Then I wrote, Why? Making sure not to give an answer unless I know the reasoning. She wrote for a minute, then passed it back to me. It said, There’s something I need to talk to you about, but it needs to be in person, and we have to be alone… I read these words over and over, not knowing what to think. I looked over at her; she seemed emotionless, just concentrating on the notes written on the board. She didn’t even acknowledge me, as usual. What did she need to talk to me about? Why alone? Was she going to kill me and make sure there were no witness’s around!? All these thoughts ran through my mind, making me dizzy. I sat for another minute before starting to write, I have practice everyday, but some days it runs short, like tomorrow. I gave it back to her and she read it over, still nothing on her face to be read, then she began to write. When I got it back she had said, Good, then tomorrow, after practice, meet me at the bleachers.

The rest of the day had rolled on, just as it always had, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t dreaming either. Every once in a while I would see her in the halls, and nothing was different between us, she still ignored me, just as she always had. So many thoughts stirred in my mind, I didn’t know what to think, it was just so strange. When I had gotten home, I did what I always did, my homework, dinner, then bed. I couldn’t seem to get to sleep that night though. She was there, in my head. I even started to wonder what had happened between us in the first place?

When the next morning came around, and I saw her in the classes we have together, still, nothing seemed to change. It was beginning to bother me. How could she just sit there and not even look at me? I would think again, and again, my anxiety building. It was hard for me to grasp the situation. Finally, when the last bell rang, I quickly ran to the locker rooms to change before practice. Just as I had finished getting dressed I started to think again, I sat down on the nearest bench. As the room began to empty, something else filled the space, a feeling, not dread, nor excitement. I wasn’t quite sure what to call this feeling. Curiosity, maybe?

I went out to the field and began to practice with my teammates. I glanced up at the bleachers, she wasn’t there. Fifteen minutes later, still nothing. I shook the thoughts from my mind and tried to concentrate on the scrimmage. By the time the end of practice came around she was completely gone from my mind, for the first time in the last twenty-four hours. Then I looked to the bleachers again, and there she was, just looking at me. It was too far away to see her expression though.

My heart beat started to hasten as I walked towards her. The moment my foot made contact with the titanium, a chill went up my spine. I knew there was something unpleasant in my future. I slowly walked up the steps to about the middle-most part of the bleachers to where she was sitting. Now I could see, she wasn’t looking at me, she was looking past me, at the horizon, her eyes slit, cutting the sunlight from her vision. Should I sit across from her, or next to her? I didn’t have much time to think so I sat next to her. She still kept her eyes on the sky. It was silent for a moment, then she spoke.

"So, how was practice, looked brutal." Was she trying to make small talk with me? "Uhh, yeah I guess…" I said, trying not to be rude. I just wish she would cut to the chase, the suspense was killing me. Then she said, "Open that pocket, right there." She pointed to the first pocket of her book bag. I opened it and my heart jumped into my through. I pulled out a raggedy old beanie baby, a dark brown cat. I recognized it from three years ago, back when she and I had first met in seventh grade. I looked at her, and she said, "I want you to have him." I felt my mouth drop. "What? But why? He’s yours, not mine!" I spit the words out uncontrollably. Her expression didn’t change, she didn’t look at me, but with the most serious tone she said, "He’s both of ours…" She was right, we shared him in a way. "But why?" I said bluntly. "Because…" She said, trailing off. For the first time, in a long time, she looked at me dead in the eyes and said, "I want to make sure, I’m not forgotten by my first true love…" I felt my heart crack in my chest. "How can you say that, I loved you so much!" She looked away from me again, towards the horizon and was quiet for a moment. "Ah, yes, loved…" She was quiet when she said this, as if, she were talking to herself. She looked down now. "Besides, he’s got your name on him." I looked down at the little thing in my hands, thought for a minute, then grabbed it’s tag. On the top side, it said his name, in faded black pen. Locker Kitty. I looked on the other side and sure enough, there is was, my two initials, also in faded pen. When I wrote that, it was also the last time I saw him, those three years seem to be so much more then just three years. We were at her locker, at the end of the day, just outside of our homeroom. She was taking him home, out of fear he might get ripped. I had picked him up, and I remember exactly what I had said, "Don’t forget me Locker Kitty." And then I had written my initials on the back side of the tag.

The memory was hard to remember, because it hurt, it hurt to think of the good times we had together, and to know, they could never happen again. So I pushed them aside, and tried to forget everything that had to do with her. I wondered if she felt the same? "Hey," She said, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Huh? Oh, what?" I said brilliantly. "You want to know the hardest part about walking away?" She said, looking at the sky again. "What?" I replied. "Is knowing you wont run after me…" And with that, she got up with her bag, and walked away, without giving me a second to think. By the time she got to the bottom of the bleachers, it hit me. I stood up, but my feet wouldn’t do as they were told, I was frozen in place, I wanted to yell after her, but my voice wouldn’t work, as if she had taken it with her when she left. After she had disappeared around the bleachers, I stood there in complete and utter sock. When I could finally move, I ran to the top of the bleachers, and watched her walk away, across the empty lot.

I realized, only now, that, that was her final goodbye. There could never be another us, and she made that clear. That day, when I watched her walk away, the hard part was that she never looked back, not once. The harder part was that, she was right, I didn’t run after her. The hardest part, that I should’ve, I wanted to, so bad. Now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. She accomplished her goal, I will never forget her. I loved her, I do love her, and I always will…