torn

I would love to say that I'm ready to fall in love with 'Joe', but I'm not. It's like a role reversal from my relationship with you, Nathaniel. He is the one chasing after me with flowers and letters and pretty words and goddamn marriage proposals, and I'm the one running as fast as I can. Why? Maybe it's the age thing; afterall six years is a lot to a fifteen year old. It would be so much easier for me to fall in love with him than to still be clutching at false hopes between you and I.
It's been fifty four days since we've seen each other. I remember that lunch time. My school had been closed because of the snow and you came to my house for dinner. There was nothing romantic about it, apart from the hug and how you lifted me up onto the counter. I wanted to cry. Perhaps we both knew that was the very end of us. You put your forehead against mine and you went to kiss me. Then the thought came to me. Me and 'Joe' had sex in that very place. You were between my legs, moving closer towards me with your mouth when I jumped up and said you'd be late for afternoon lessons. That was the very last time we were together.
The day before that we went to visit our friend in hospital. As we walked out of the funny-smelling building together, into the fresh snow, you whispered in my ear "you look beautiful with snow flakes in your hair". I stopped laughing and smiling and that there was our last kiss. Fifty five days ago. I wish I had known that would be our last. I think you knew.
I don't think anyone will understand how it feels and what it means to have your lips against mine. To me, that will always be the definitive kiss, gentle yet passionate. It was like we'd read each other's minds when we'd kiss; we both knew what to do and when to do it, without even thinking about it.
I wish I could remember which of your chestnut eyes has the black dot in it. Every time I see 'Joe' looking up at me I imagine your face instead of his. I know it's wrong.
I wonder how much longer your hair has grown and if it would feel different between my fingers.
Maybe I should ask your girlfriend.