Just

It's just a Facebook friend request.  From someone I knew in high school.  Someone to whom I was a total ass.  I was one of the popular girls:  cheerleader, drama queen, part of the in-crowd, always the life of the party.  He was a total nerd.  Chess club, drama club, straight-A student, never invited to any parties that were worth my time.  That was before, so long ago.  Before I tanked my GPA senior year and ended up having to go to a community college where no one cared how popular I had been the year before.  In fact, no one seemed to care much at all.  But I got through, got my associates degree, transferred to a four year college, studied business, learned how to put my aggressive nature to good use, while still separating it from my personal life.  And now, well, what personal life?  I mean, I guess I have friends, but nothing like in high school.  Even on Facebook, I only have a couple hundred friends.  Nothing too impressive.  And now, this nerdy kid from high school wants to be added to the count.  What reason could he possibly have for wanted to reconnect with me after all these years?  I was borderline... no, I was flat out cruel to him.  I made fun of him for being a nerd.  I even "accidentally" tripped him in the cafeteria once when he had particularly annoyed me with his know-it-all attitude.  And he had looked at me with such pain that day, when that happened, that I almost didn't laugh in my face.  Almost.  Why would he want to be my friend now, even just on Facebook?  Well I shouldn't really care one way or the other.  It's just a Facebook friend request.  So I click accept and that's that.

It's just coffee.  I can't believe he asked if I wanted to get coffee.  We went to different colleges, so far apart, but not fate or destiny or whatever the crap has brought us to the same city again and he wants to meet up and get coffee.  Maybe he has me confused with someone else.  But how would I ask about that?  Do I just type back, "You know I'm that bitch who used to be a total, well, bitch to you in high school, right?"  Well that just makes me still a bitch, right?  Bringing it up again after all these years?  Maybe I should just pretend this is normal.  That everything is fine.  But why should I care so much about any of this?  He's just a guy I used to know, someone who didn't deserve all the cruelty I slung his way.  Maybe this is a second chance to make it right.  Or maybe it's nothing at all.  After all, it's just coffee.  So I simply type back, "sure" and then suggest a place I like and ask about his availability so we can get it all set up and get it over with.

It was just a dumb crush.  That's what he told me at our coffee meet-up.  I think if I was being honest, I would have been able to figure out how he'd felt, though for the life of me, I still have no idea why.  I was so mean to him, so unjust.  How could he have liked me?  I literally asked him just that and he shrugged and asked, "How could I not?"  I reminded him of how terrible I had been, what a terrible person I was, how cruel.  "I thought girls did that when they liked you," he said.  "I eventually figured out I was wrong."  And that was when I told him how sorry I was.  I don't know why I was crying.  I just was.  And it was so stupid, so stupid that I let this get to me after all these years.  But then again, what was stupid was really that it had taken all those years.  He told me it was just a dumb crush, but that wasn't fair.  It was a crush.  It was how he felt.  And he had deserved so much better.  I told him I hoped he had found someone who was a better person that I, someone who wasn't such a screw up.  Someone kind and smart and funny.  And he told me not yet, but he was hoping, he was hoping, just hoping...

It was just a kiss.  Just one kiss.  He had stumbled over his words, and I had stumbled over mine.  He was still a nerd, but I was a little bit of one, too, I was no longer afraid to admit.  He offered to pay for the coffee, but I insisted.  It was peanuts and I didn't want to insult him, but I wanted to do something nice for him.  I knew it couldn't make up for being an ass, so long ago, but I told him I wanted to do something nice.  I admitted it was basically meaningless, that it was really just to make myself feel better.  He said, "okay."  Just, "okay".  And then he let me pay and he offered to walk me to my car, and then... it was just a kiss.  Just a peck on the cheek.  Not even a proper kiss, but it was somehow the closest I had ever felt to someone in a long time.  And I just, I just found myself asking for him number, asking if maybe he wanted to meet up again sometime.  And he said, again, "okay."  Just, "okay".  And that was all it took.

It was just a date.  A proper date this time.  Dinner and a play.  I paid for dinner and he paid for the play.  A nice restaurant, a local theater.  We ate first, at an Italian place.  Somewhere I hadn't been before but wanted to try.  And it was nice, just really nice.  He had a pleasant voice, which I either hadn't noticed or had chosen to ignore in high school.  He was really smart, which was no surprise, but he was funny, too.  I regretted I had been such a snob in high school.  Maybe I could have been his friend this whole time.  Maybe we could have been something more.  If nothing else, maybe he could have helped me get into a decent college from the start.  How different would my life have been?  And the play was nice, too.  He chose it.  He'd heard it was good, and it was.  It was just so nice, all of it.  But it was still just a date.  And I enjoyed it, and I knew I'd like to go out with him again.  But it was just so weird, and besides, it was just the one date.  I decided to just let him take the lead, let him make the next move.  I would just wait and see what happened.

It was just a phone call.  Just a simple call to set up our second date.  He called me, and asked if I'd like to go out again, and said how nice it had been to, well, to start over.  To get to know each other properly.  It felt like just a few minutes that we talked, but really it was more than an hour.  And we were going to go out again, go play min-golf.  Just from a simple phone call.

He's just a guy.  Just another guy.  I have to keep telling myself that.  I'm not falling for him out of guilt or sympathy.  I really like him.  I tell myself he's just another guy so that I can convince myself it isn't guilt drawing us together.  And I tell myself he's just another guy so that I can try to convince myself I'm not actually falling for him.  But I just, I just am.  I do like him.  I like his smile and his laugh and the clever things he says.  And he might be just a guy, but I'm just a girl, and I like guys and I like him.

It's just a phrase.  Just one simple phrase.  "I love you."  I told him I loved him.  We haven't slept together.  We don't even kiss that much, but I love him.  And part of me wishes I had just realized it back in high school, but another part of me is glad I waited until I was older that I figured it out, so maybe it would last.  It's just... it's just that he didn't say it back.  And I tell myself that's okay.  I can wait.  It will be fine.  I'm sure he'll say it eventually.  After all, it's just a phrase.

It was just, it was just a lie.  All of it was a lie.  A fight, the truth, a break-up.  It was just, so hard.  "And now you know how I felt," that was what he said.  And it was just, it was just.  He could never love me.  Of course he couldn't.  This was just a mistake.  Everything I did was a mistake.  And it was all just a lie.  He was too clever.  He had done too well.  He almost looked sorry, almost, when he told me the truth.  That he had just been leading me on.  That he wanted to hurt me like I had hurt him.  And he just did.  And that was just that.  And after all the tears and the pain and the anger, I have to admit that although it was just a lie, it was just.  And I just deserved it.

He was just a boy I used to know.  And I'm surprised he didn't unfriend me first, but here I am looking at his Facebook page, waiting to just click the button.  Just do it.  It's done.  He got what he wanted and you got what you deserve.  Just click the button and move on.  Learn from this.  Learn to be a better person.  Just remember what could have been, if you hadn't been such a bitch.  He was just a guy, a guy who deserved so much better than you.  And you're just a girl, who wants to be something better, too.

It's just something that happened.  You can just move on, go back to your job, your life, your friends.  Meet other people.  Start something new.  You can be better than this.  It's just...

"I'm just so sorry."

He just doesn't respond.  For the longest time, he doesn't message back.  It's okay if he doesn't.  I just had to try.  I had to tell him that even though you were an ass back in high school, this could have been real.  But of course he already knows that.  That was kinda the whole point.  But you just want him to know that it's okay.  That it's your fault, too, and you don't blame him.  Just let him know that you still think he's a good person, or at least has the potential to be, if he can just get past you.

"No."  His response appears.  And then he's typing more and there's just one more message.  "I'm sorry."

Just how do you respond to that?

"I forgive you.  I hope you can forgive me."

"I do.  But I don't want to see you again.  Good-bye."

"Good-bye.  I hope you can find someone who makes you happy."

Just.  It's just...  It just is.  It's just something that happened.  But it's more than that, isn't it?  It's something that has the potential to shape who I am, to make me a better person, to help me find someone who will really make me happy as well.  Eventually, I hope, it will be just that.