If We Were Different People

I always said I would tell our story better than it was. In my version, my dress isn’t covered in someone’s flat PBR when we meet for the first time. I'm not sticky with the sweat of the fifty other people grinding in the frat basement. You look at my face before my chest and a week later you will remember the first time we met when we meet for the second time. I’ll keep your sense of humor and even your teasing when it’s affectionate. But I'll say you remembered my tattoo because you liked it and not because you made fun of it to your friends. You’ll think I’m funny intentionally instead of accidentally. When I tell it, we will laugh more than we fight in the months when we were friends. You won’t ask me out in the middle of yelling at me for kissing another guy. When you pick me up for our date you will be on time and bring flowers.

I’ll keep our date though, if you don’t mind, because that, at least, was perfect. I’ll tell people how we went to dinner, as first dates typically go, but then you took me to New York City, even though it's hours away, because you know its my favorite place in the world. I’ll explain how surprised I was since I was half expecting you to come by asking, “so what do you want to do?” I’ll talk about how we slept on the bus, waking up cramped and a little groggy. Sometime in the trip, my head fell against your shoulder and your arm moved around me. We smiled when we woke up like that, each a little embarrassed.

I’ll talk about the crappy diner we went to because we were starving and it was the first place we came across. When I got up to go to the bathroom, I still had my bag over my shoulder and you asked if I was leaving you already. That’s the sense of humor I was talking about. What you didn’t know was that I had gum in my purse and was planning on furiously chewing away my morning breath before you noticed it. I rinsed my mouth with water instead and I think it did the trick because I know you would’ve said something if it hadn’t. You never let me keep illusions.

We walked to Rockefeller Center and sat looking at the Christmas tree. I had never seen it before and in that moment it was the most beautiful thing I could imagine. The lights of the tree paired with the lights of the city made me feel like we were in a movie. When the Christmas music started playing I cried because everything seemed so perfect. I hoped you didn’t see, but of course you did and you laughed at me. I laughed too, embarrassed because I knew I was being ridiculous. You told me not to apologize, why else did I think you would spend all night on a bus?

In my story, you kiss me there instead of later that night, drunk in your apartment while infomercials play on the T.V. Your fingers cup my face and sneak into my hair instead of up my shirt. We don’t do more than kiss and in the morning we don’t wake up confused and a little ashamed.

When you tell me you love me, I don’t panic and pull away. It doesn’t scare me so much that I get nauseous and can’t look you in the eye. I smile at you and say me too, because I’m pretty sure it was true.

And a week later, when you tell me that you want to take it back, I won’t yell at you or let you see me cry yet again. I definitely won’t hit you, at least not as hard as I did. I’ll tell people we were mature and understanding of each other. We discussed our feelings and broke up mutually, instead of fighting loudly in someone’s bathroom at a party. We will have broken up once instead of five times. We didn’t keep replaying the cycle like addiction. I’ll tell people we’re still friends and that we were good for each other in some way. And I’ll tell them that when we do see each other, we are different.