NEVER

2 years ago

It was September 16th, a date that would stay etched in my mind, forever burned to memory like a scar. The moving truck sat in the driveway next door, its engine idling like it was waiting to steal something precious from me. I hated that truck. I hated the sound it made, the way it loomed over everything, a loud angry reminder of what was coming.

The sky was gray, the kind of gray that made everything look dull and lifeless. Even the air felt heavy, pressing down on me as I stood in my driveway, watching.

He was leaving. James was really leaving.

The words played on loop in my head, each repetition driving the truth deeper into my chest. I’d tried so hard to pretend this day wouldn’t come. I told myself it was just a bad dream, that if I ignored it long enough, it wouldn’t be real.

“You’ll call or text me, right?” I asked. My voice sounding small, even to me.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, but his voice was flat, like he didn’t even believe himself.

The worst part was…….neither did I.

We both knew it wasn’t true. People always say they’ll stay in touch, but life has a way of pulling you apart. I wanted to believe we’d be different, that we could hold onto the bond we’d built over the years, but deep down, I knew better.

I looked at him, really looked at him, trying to memorize every detail. His messy hair, the way his blue headphones hung around his neck. That bracelet on his wrist.

Every part of him felt like home, and now that home was slipping away.

“Don’t even think about forgetting me,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I forced a smile.

“Never,” he said, and for a second, I let myself believe him.

But then he turned away, pulling his headphones over his ears. His steps were slow, almost reluctant, as he headed for the car. His parents and brothers were already inside, waiting.

I watched as he climbed in, his movements stiff, like he didn’t want to go but had no choice. He glanced at me one last time, his expression unreadable.

“See you again, maybe,” he said, just before shutting the door.

I stood there, fists clenched, trying to keep the tears from spilling over.

“Yeah, maybe -never,” I whispered, my words barely audible over the sound of the engine starting.

The car began to roll down the driveway, and I felt something break inside me. I wanted to scream for him to stay, to beg him not to go, but I knew it wouldn’t’t make a difference.

Instead, I just stood there, watching until the car turned the corner and disappeared from view