Please Remember Me - A story about some boy
09/25/2003
9:09 p.m.
When I was a sophomore in college, I went on what was referred to by the Greeks as simply "Beach Trip". The few sororities and fraternities at my school would descend upon Panama City Beach for 4 days and 3 nights of sun, fun, the ocean, and mass quantities of body shots. I had recently broken up with a boy that was mad at me for joining one of those sororities a couple of months before. Being a very devout Christian, he believed I had signed myself up for a one-way ticket straight into the depths of hell. I became increasingly frustrated with him and decided to just let him be right - which may seem like a cop-out to those of you at home but I feel completely justified about here. Anxious to get away from the angry church-boy and his bible-thumping friends, I headed down a day early, to forget my woes in the beauty of the Gulf of Mexico. I proceeded to flirt with just about every cute guy around. This quickly became a problem when one of the guys wanted more than a little flirting. He had some ridiculous nickname like Fish or Moose or Squirrel, and was a 27 year old alum from Atlanta that was working as a flight attendant. In an attempt to avoid being alone with the guy, I convinced a group of people to join us in the hot tub. I scurried myself in the room before he could get there, and quickly scoped out a strategic spot away from where he would be. There was some boy sitting there already. I didn't even really look at his face. I just quickly asked if he had a girlfriend, and then told him I would be sitting next to him to avoid an over-anxious flight attendant. People began coming in carrying trays of banana daquiris and tequila shots. Skunk the Flight Attendant began hitting on some other undergrad. And I began talking continuously to this boy whose original purpose had been to be camouflage. He nonchalantly put his arm behind my head. He was sweet, innocent, and wonderfully nice. His eyes were wide and sad-looking. I began to wonder if he wanted to kiss me. I liked making him smile. I felt myself laughing way too loud at his jokes. I further felt it when I smacked the back of my head hard against the hot tub. I leaned over clutching my head and my pride while he repeatedly asked if I was okay. It was while I was sitting back up that he decided to kiss me. I never saw it coming. It was, thereby, the greatest kiss of my life. One moment I was rubbing my sore skull, and the next I was locked in an embrace that would rival Romeo and Juliet. Everthing in the world that I ever wanted in love exploded in that first kiss. At least that's how I remember it now. At the time, the many banana daquiris and tequila shots were catching up with me, and soon I could barely see straight. He helped me out of the foggy hot tub room and up to my room, trudging up nine flights of winding stairs. Once back at the suite, he helped me to my bed, where I collapsed. I begged him to lay with me just until I fell asleep, which he did, being the perfect gentleman the whole time. When I woke several hours later, I wondered when I would see this boy again. All I really knew at the time was his name and fraternity, the same fraternity I was a little sister to. As my other sorority sisters went to a chippendale show, I sat on the balcony and thought of this boy with the sweet eyes and the great kiss. I never even heard him come in the hotel room until he opened the balcony door. We both smiled and said hello like it was a normal Saturday night date for us. We were dressed in sweatshirts and jeans, and he sat down next to me to listen to the ocean and watch the people play down below. Words weren't needed. He felt like someone I'd already said every word ever said to anyone in the world before. We sat in silence for such a long time, just breathing in the thought of each other. My soul began to feel like it had found a mate. The next day I had to leave early to take care of various sorority pledge things. Again, I didn't know when I'd see him again. But that evening around midnight, when I walked into the fraternity house, there he was. He'd waited there since returning from the beach, knowing that sooner or later I'd walk through the door. We stayed up for several hours talking. We told stories about high school and our families, about first kisses and first heartaches. After half of the night, we ended up in his bed. He was a virgin. We spent most of the next week in that bed. All of a sudden we became that couple everyone knew. No longer were we referred to as individuals - we were a complete set. You never got one without the other. We could finish each other's thoughts and knew exactly what to say to make the other laugh. He called me "Baby" and would sing it over and over again when he wanted affection. I knew the spot on his shoulder where I would fit perfectly and be able to inhale all of him in. I continuously skipped class just be near him for five more minutes. We took a trip to Jacksonville for the weekend just to see the sunrise on the beach. Our apartments slowly merged where I never knew where all of my clothes were. I drew a picture of us kissing that was framed at his mother's house. He asked how long I wanted us to be engaged before getting married. He had a love for Garth Brooks that I never quite understood. He humored my passion for all things Disney. He also drank too much. I was emotionally unstable. One night he passed out on the back porch of the frat house, mumbling about dying and hating me. I sat on his chest and slapped him repeatedly, demanding he wake up and tell me he loved me. He didn't get me anything for my birthday. Another night he called and said that he needed to tell me something. Thoughts of cheating and lies ran through my head. He met me in the parking lot before I could even get to the house. He told me he'd decided to join the Marine Reserves. He'd be leaving for boot camp within a month. We cried and discussed out future. He promised he wouldn't let the Marines change him. I told him I'd wait for him as long as it took. We decided to start planning marriage. He wrote almost every day. Each letter ended with the promise that he was the same boy I'd fallen in love with. I didn't write back nearly enough. I cheated on him and never told him. After boot camp, he moved back with his parents 'til he found a job. By this time I'd moved home as well and had started taking antidepressants. We now lived four hours apart. We talked as often as possible. We visited whenever we could. On his birthday, I told him he could decide if he really wanted us or not. I'd felt him slipping away and wanted to give him his freedom. I assured him that I'd wait for his answer. I kissed him through tears before leaving. That became the greatest kiss of my life. I drove the four hours home, crying the entire time. I searched the radio stations for all the sad songs. Tim McGraw's "Please Remember Me" was a particular favorite of the time. When I got home, I called to report my safe return. The phone barely rang before he answered. He told me he wanted me more than anything else in the world. He didn't care what happened as long as we were together. We would make this work. Two months later I came home to see his number on the caller ID. I called back, excited to hear from him. We hadn't spoken in over a week. Again he told me he needed to tell me something. The thoughts of lies and cheating didn't run through my head this time. I knew this trick. There was no problem we couldn't handle. He said he no longer had any feelings for me. None. They'd been gone for a while. He was so sorry. I asked if this meant the wedding was off..... I only spoke to him one more time. About a month later, we both ended up at college visiting friends. The conversation lasted about 30 minutes. The silence was different this time. My soul began to feel lost. At least once a month, I dream about him. The dreams are never the same. They're simply about him. They tend to stay with me for a day or two afterwards. I wonder where he is now. Is he married? Does he have children? Is he a federal marshall like he dreamed? Do I haunt his dreams like he haunts mine? I've googled his name, but it's too common to do any good. I don't know what I'd do if I found him anyway. I just want to feel the kiss again. I want my soul to not feel so lost. All because of some boy.
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� Lysistrata 2003-2004
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