Whenever someone asks me, “What’s one thing you will never forget?” I hesitate. My hands become clammy, my heart jumpy, and I begin questioning if this question really is that hard. But I know exactly what moment, what place, my mind is screaming at. It takes everything inside of me to stop and choose something else, anything else. As I answer the question with something completely different and that person nods their head. I fall into oblivion, the “nowhere”, out of space. Then it seems like I’m transported back to that specific place I keep. 

The last day of sophomore year, at exactly 11:39 pm. In front of the house my parents owned they liked to call the “church house”. There we stood, in front of his car, parked on the side of the road, talking. 

It was cold that early summer night. It rained heavily earlier that day, so the ground was wet. The air smelled of damp grass, my feet wet from walking in it. The goosebumps on my skin began to tickle me in a way that felt like a gust of wind against an open back. 

We stood shoulder to shoulder, his black shirt contrasting the forest green Nike shirt I had on. In the beginning, we stood silently for a bit. Then in a gentle voice he asked me a question and another and another and it felt like an interrogation. Tears fell from my eyes, warm against my cheek. It felt like the two worlds that I had been trying so hard to keep apart had just slapped me. My heart broke as I tried to explain the feelings I was holding. He listened, but I knew he was overwhelmed. Suddenly that cold summer day became California during July. 

The lamppost seemed to run away with its beaming light. Mosquitos biting me in the ankle and my thighs already itchy. 

All of a sudden, after my oily tears, and my demolished heart tale story flowing into the night air. A welcoming arm brushed my back, his fingers wrapped around my upper arm. Suddenly my feet stumbled against the road, and my body fell into the side of his. My cheek against the soft fabric of his black shirt he wore. His smell was completely different from the rest of the surrounding area, it was an old cologne. It smelt like the ocean. 

I tried speaking, but he shushed me and pulled me in closer. His grip on my body tightened. I felt blood suddenly rush to my cheeks and I felt a sense of relief. Confused, no longer alone, I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. He said to me, “ I know what you’re going through. I understand you.” Oh how I wish to hear those words again.

For the remainder of that time together. I watched the shadow the lamppost, who suddenly had come closer, portrayed over us. I watched as my head fell onto his shoulder and his head fell onto mine. It felt so right. 

For him, I knew he was watching me. Watching the way I looked at the shadows, the way I was too scared to ask “why?”. His fingers suddenly vanished from the upper arm they once were on, and now on the side of my face, trailing the curves of my ear and cheek. He began to grab those irritating hairs that I couldn’t fit quite well in the high ponytail I had on that day, and gracefully pushed them to the backside of my ear. 

Silence couldn’t even fill the silence. His body was still warm around mine and for one last moment, I looked up at him. I could see that his face wasn’t as clear and perfect. There was a small scar on his jawline and a patch of dry skin on the side of his cheek. He turned his head and I noticed the mole he had right by his left eye. The same mole that I had by my eye. It was strange, to have such a small similar detail, when I felt like the universe had put so many differences in between. 

All I said was, “Thank you.” I picked up my awkward arm with the strength I had left and put it around his body. 

It felt like hours we stayed like this, and I held no objection. 

That was the last time I saw him that summer. He didn’t call, he didn’t text, or used any other social media to contact me with. I saw him a few times, he could barely look me in the eye. I wasn’t sad, but I would cry, because months later I came to the realization that the hug wasn’t because he felt the same towards me. It was a goodbye. 

Whenever someone asks me, “What one thing you will never forget?” I hesitate. But I know where I’m going. I know my mind will remember everything about that place I keep within. That place I still often visit and will keep.