Memories Before

There I am.

As a baby.

Barely walking.

Hardly wobbling.

Geez, I cried a lot.

Then I'm thirteen.

Trying on a tux,

for the middle school dance.

Those were the best,

as I always saw my crush,

Allison.

Allison,

with her long pastel dress.

Curly hair tied up in a bun.

The only person I've ever

truly

connected with.

Then I'm eighteen.

The air is covered

with celebration.

I look around,

and see Allison.

I smile and wave,

but she's too busy.

Hugging her boyfriend.

Then I'm twenty-two.

Late night full of homework.

I take a sip of my drink.

This warm feeling runs in me.

I feel no stress.

No worries.

I wanted more.

Then I'm twenty-six.

I'm on the floor.

On the bottom,

rock bottom.

My arm moves,

and I feel the empty bottle.

I grab it quickly,

bringing it to my dry mouth.

A drip.

That's all I needed.

Then I'm thirty-three.

I can barely move

without anything hurting.

The door in the distance closes.

Fine.

I didn't need her.

She was a b***h anyway.

As my heart slowly broke,

I lied,

and told myself,

"I don't need... her."

Then I'm fourty-four.

I saw Allison.

She didn't see me,

but I saw her.

She's still as beautiful,

as gorgeous,

as stunning as ever.

I pick up the new bottle

full of poison,

but I stopped myself.

I need to stop.

I need to clean up.

I need her.

Then I'm forty-six.

Allison's right there.

Right in front of me.

I look at her,

really look at her.

Her playful smile.

The way her eyes just,

twinkle in the light.

"I do."

Then I'm fifty-one.

We ran out of milk.

It's hard to see at night.

I turned a corner,

Then I'm here.

In the present.

With headlights in my eyes,

and a car horn blaring,

like a death bell,

in my ears.

I would've screamed,

but my natural instincts

were somewhere else.

Only thinking one,

single,

thought.

"I love you, Allison."