The First Box is the Hardest
The year was up. Somehow, they hadn't done it. Maybe she didn't try hard enough, maybe she tried too hard, who knew. Well, at least it was better to find out now than later on in life. The box sat on her bed. The first one. She wrote on it with a permanent marker, NATHAN, and underlined it twice. She started tossing things in it, things that were his. Things he had given her. She folded his jersey and put it in the bottom, and next to it she folded and placed his letterman's jacket. Then the nightgown her got her on their first "date". On top of them she placed CDs he had burned for her, just random things. Next to them were NBA stat books, his attempt to help her understand basketball, no help really. Then, albums and albums of pictures. Pictures of them together, happy. Pictures of him. Pictures he had taken of her. Their wedding pictures. By now the box was almost full, just a couple more things to add. She added the bracelet from the box of Cracker Jacks. In the middle of the bracelet she placed her wedding ring. At the very top was a letter addressed to Nathan.
This is everything you ever gave me, or anything that reminded me of you. I thought you'd like it back. Keep it, throw it out, burn it, I don't really care. I'll be gone by the time you get this, so don't try to find me to give it back. Things just didn't work out, I understand that. I just wished and hoped for a happier ending.
Don't try to find me, it'd be to hard on the both of us. We tried it, and we failed, we just weren't meant to be. If I see you, I see you, if I don't, I don't. I just want you to know, I love you, and I always will love you, but sometimes, love isn't enough. I've already changed my name. I'm no longer Haley James-Scott, just Haley James.
If you should ever find me again, it wouldn't mean anything, nothing like a Serendipity moment. Chick flick, you probably wouldn't get the reference. Guess that would be something for you to do. I can't live the rest of my life waiting for you. I won't. I'm sorry.
Well, I guess this is goodbye, for good. I'd tell you all of this in person, but I fear you'd try and stop me. I don't need that. I need to get out of here. I won't be able to get over you if I see you everyday, not that you'll miss me anyway. I'd give you contact information, but I fear you'd try to find me, and I just can't have that, not yet. I'm sorry.
I love you,
P.S. I'm sorry, and I hope that someday you can learn to trust me again. If not, that's your loss. Well, I guess the next time I'd see you would be in five years for a high school reunion. Well, that's if we both show, and if they have one. So, goodbye, and I guess you're thinking good riddance.
She placed the lid on the box and taped it up. She picked it up and set it on the floor. One box down, more to go. The rest would be easier to go through, they were only her things to pack. She sighed and started to pack up the rest of her things. She hoped to be out of town by nightfall. Graduation was that morning and everyone else was still out celebrating, drinking, dancing, celebrating. She was home, packing to leave town. This was easier, nobody there to try to change her mind. She picked up the marker and wrote on the side of the box, CLOTHES, and started to fill the box.