Summertime Sadness

"No," I say, honest with him for once. "I hurt myself but I'm okay, Rog." I hesitate. "And I'm sorry about us, okay. I didn't mean to be such a bitch."

"I know you didn't, Teresa," he says. He's choosing his words. "We had a good two years, didn't we? Up until..." His voice trails away, he looks away but before he does, I see the hurt in his eyes and I know he's hurting the same way I am but for a different reason. We're hurting for different people and I never wanted to hurt Rog.

"We did, Rog," I say, softly. "A really good two years and I'm sorry it ended the way it did."

"I shouldn't have drunk that much that night," he says.

"Yeah." He shouldn't have and if he hadn't, maybe we'd both be hurting now for different reasons. I glance at him. "I'm sorry about what I did, okay, Rog. I'm really sorry about that." I swallow. That night still makes me feel a little sick. With his best friend? How could I ever have done that? "I really feel bad about that."

"It's okay, Teresa." His hand squeezes mine. He shrugs. "No use crying over spilt milk and you're leaving town anyhow. But I miss us."

I smile a little forlornly. "Me too." Rog was my life for two years, my best friend's older brother. My boyfriend up until that party a few months ago. Life with Rog was so much simpler. After you and me, everything was so much more complicated and I don't regret that, but simplicity has its advantages. I always knew where I was with Rog. He kept me so centered with his calm acceptance of my moods and my sudden tempers and my impulsiveness. He was always there for me, the way he is now, even after everything.

"I'm really going to miss you." I'm suddenly honest with him. "I wish it'd worked out for us, Rog, but I don't love you, not anymore."

"I know that, Teresa," he says, not looking at me. "I know about him." He looks at me as my heart runs away on me. "You haven't been exactly discrete about it, either of you."

I don't know what to say and the sweat beads on my forehead, my hand squeezes the shift. His hand squeezes mine. I look at him helplessly.

He shrugs. "I know you too well, Teresa."

And I know he does but it's too late for more talking, we're outside my parent's house. My house, except this morning I'm moving out and after this, I'll only be visiting. It's my house, my home, but I won't be living here anymore, ever again. I turn the ignition of, give him the keys.

"I really did love you, Rog," I say to him, leaning over, kissing him.

He hugs me. "I loved you, Teresa," he says. "I still love you and I'm just sorry I was such a dick, okay."

"Yeah," I say, resting my head on his shoulder. "I know. I'm sorry too." And I am.

I lift my head. Smile. "Come in for a coffee, Mom and Dad'll be happy to see you." He hasn't been around since we broke up and I know Dad likes Rog.

"Okay." He gives me a smile, a smile that's as sad as mine. "Be good to see your Dad again."

Mom and Dad are already up when we walk in the door. Dad's drinking coffee, Mom's cooking breakfast. Everything's already packed, my last suitcases of clothes are in the back of Dad's truck. My bed, my desk, my laptop, boxes and boxes of my books, a couple of bookcases, clothes, my Tae Kwon Do equipment, a big bag of it, my little Ruger and my rifles and my Remington 20 Gauge and a few boxes of ammo and my permits for here and for there. Everything I'll need. They're all packed in the box. Dad's ready to go anytime. He's just waiting on me.

"I'll grab a quick shower and get changed and we can head off, Dad," I say. I don't want to head off. All of a sudden I don't want to leave home at all. I want to stay here where it's safe and secure. Stay here where I know everyone.

Stay here where you are and I can smell you on me.

"Be quick, honey," Dad says. "It's a long drive." He grins at Roger. "You better have some coffee, son. You look the worse for wear. Get the boy some breakfast, love. Hard party was it, Rog?"

"Fuck, yeah," Roger says without thinking. He only realizes what he's said when Dad laughs.

"Shit, sorry," he says and my Dad laughs again.

Even Mom giggles but she brings him a mug. Dad pours his coffee as I head up the stairs.

Roger's sitting at the table looking a bit less pale when I come back downstairs, showered, dressed for travel. Old black jeans, sports bra, an old black t-shirt, Doc Marten boots. My old leather jacket in my hand. It's a long drive, I want to be comfortable. Everything else I want to take is in the truck already. Mom pours me a coffee, pours Roger a refill, pushes a plate of toast and scrambled eggs towards me. Roger's hands are shaking and he spills some when he picks his coffee up but it looks like he managed the bacon and eggs.

Dad laughs, takes a bottle of Advil from the cupboard. "Have a couple of these, Roger."

Roger looks sheepish but he opens the bottle, takes a couple, swallows them.

"Yvonne called," Mom says, and my head jerks up. Startled. Your wife? Does she know I was with you last night? What does she want? My heart races, pounds. My breakfast's suddenly forgotten.

"She's coming over with Grant as soon as he gets back from that overnight hunting trip of his," Mom says. "She didn't want your Dad and you to leave until they made it over to say goodbye."

For a moment, I feel guilty. Yvonne's always been so good to me, since I was a little girl. She's almost an older sister in many ways. How could I have betrayed her with her husband? But I have, for five months now, without a qualm. Without a second thought. But the guilt lasts for only a fleeting second and I'm suddenly happy, knowing I'll see you again, I'll see you one last time, even if you're with her.

"Finish your breakfast, honey," Dad says, pouring himself another coffee.

"Coffee and sandwich's are in the bag," Mom says, kissing my Dad's head. "Not too much junk food on the road, okay?"

"No fried rice?" My Dad's laughing. Mom always packs fried rice for herself. Sandwiches for Dad.

"Aiiyaaaah, you!" Mom smiles. Kisses my Dad's head again.

"I better go," Roger says, getting up, giving me a hug. His face is closed off now, his expression says it all. He doesn't want to see you. "See ya, Teresa, don't be a stranger, huh."

I hug him back, he's been good friend. He was a good boyfriend too. A pain in the ass sometimes, but a good guy and I'll miss him. "See you at Christmas, Rog."

"Yeah." And he's gone.

Your truck pulls up outside. You swing yourself out and I can't stop looking at you. I didn't expect to see you again and now here you are and almost, almost I lose it and run to you, throw myself at you, hold you so tight that no-one can ever separate us. Yvonne walks around the side, joins you, your arm goes round her waist, you're smiling down at her and I feel faint as you walk towards me with her.

"Goodbye, Teresa," you say, and I can hear the sadness you're trying to conceal.

Yvonne glances at you, not smiling for a second before she slips away, takes my arm, walks me off to one side while you watch us. She takes me in her arms, she hugs me and for a long moment guilt fills me because I smell you on her and it's not her arms holding me I want. It's yours and I miss them so much. I want your arms holding me so much and I shudder as Yvonne kisses the top of my head, holds me.

"Thank you for leaving, Teresa," she says at last, very quietly, and when I look up there're tears in her eyes too. "Thank you for making the right choice for him."

I look into her eyes and I know she knows. I can see the pain there. The pain and the relief and I wonder who else knows. Roger. And now Yvonne? How? I open my mouth, not sure what I'm going to say and I'm feeling dizzy now. Faint.

"It was your hair," she says, her voice a whisper and I know exactly what she's talking about. Mom and I. we're the only ones around here with black hair. Mom's is short, mine falls to my hips. It's unmistakable. "Your hair was all over our bed and in the shower every time I went away," and I hear the pain in her voice. The pain I'm feeling now, leaving you.

There're tears on her cheeks too, both of us are crying now. "Don't say anything, Teresa, it's done and it's over now and thank you for letting him go." Another hug, she wipes my cheeks, wipes hers and she's gone, gone to your side and her hand is in yours and she's smiling, talking happily to you and how could I ever destroy that happiness?

You stand with her, watching my Mom saying goodbye to me and I can't look at you, I can't walk over to you and hug you because if I do, my tears will come again and they won't stop. You're there, standing with her, you're holding her hand and you're watching me as I give Mom a last hug and climb into the truck, pull the door closed, wave out the window and your eyes meet mine and you know I'm waving to you. You know the tears on my cheeks are for you. I sit beside Dad in the front passenger seat as he pulls out onto the road, as we drive away. You're standing there with your wife and my Mom, all of you waving.

I wanted you to hold me, I wanted you to kiss me, I wanted you to comfort me and tell me you'll love me and you'll miss me and you'll wait for me but I know you couldn't and you didn't. Not in front of everyone and I wanted you to. I really did, and the tears are pouring down my cheeks now and I can't stop them. I can't stop myself from crying.

"It's okay, honey," my Dad says, patting my knee. "You won't be by yourself at College, Trinh's already there and you'll be back for Christmas."

He knows I'm sad, I know he doesn't know why and I'm glad for that at least. I don't want anyone to know about Grant and I. It's not that I'm ashamed or feel guilty, I don't. It's that I don't want anyone except me hurt and I've known this hurt would come for weeks. Months, really.

But that doesn't help at all with the pain now that it's here. I know Dad thinks I'm sad because I'm leaving home and he's sad about that himself. He's sad but he's also proud of me, pleased that I know what I'm doing, that I have my own goals and objectives in life. He's told me that when we've talked over summer.

His sadness differs from mine. He knows I have to make my own way in the world and he's sad that I'm leaving, sad that his youngest child is moving away but he knows I'll be back. He knows he's my Dad and I love him and I'll always return to our family home, regardless of where I am and who I'm with.

My sadness, my sadness is the sadness of a final parting, of a love that I know is already lost. I have your email, I have your phone number, I have my photos of you, of us, but already I know you're a memory. Your home is here, your wife is here, your two kids are here. You're not leaving and I know I'll only be returning for the breaks.

I'll go to College, I'll graduate, I'll find a job somewhere, I'll meet someone else eventually. I'll see you again, I know, but by then what we have now, what we had over this long summer, it will have faded. There'll always be a place in my heart for you, always a place in my heart for our love, but it's over between us now.

Now and forever.

Summer's almost gone and it's the end of my last summer vacation. The end of my time of love with you and we both know that it's ended. We've had our last summer night of romance and love under the moonlight and the stars. I lean out the window, waving madly one last time and everyone waves back. You and I know we're waving only to each other. You and I know that I have eyes only for you until we turn the corner and you're gone from my sight and my Dad's glancing at me. His eyes catch mine for a moment and his look is a serious one. He looks back to the road, flicks the radio on. Music fills the cab. Lana del Rey, her words, the song, they match my mood so perfectly.

Summertime sadness

I just wanted you to know

That, baby, you're the best...

I got that summertime, summertime sadness

S-s-summertime, summertime sadness

Got that summertime, summertime sadness

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh"

You were the best, baby. Absolutely you were the best, but my summer is over now. Our summer is over. I'm heading out into the real world, leaving home, heading off for my first year of College, new friends, new experiences. I'll treasure your love, I'll treasure those memories of us together, always. I'll email you, I'll text you, I'll even call you at your office, I'll tell you I still love you. You'll tell me you love me. But I know it's a summer love that's ended forever. We'll see each other again at Christmas but by then I'll be a different person and that knowledge is bittersweet. As bittersweet as my memories of our last night by the lake, so recent in time, already only a memory.

A summertime memory.

A memory of love.

Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky

Later's better than never

Even if you're gone I'm gonna drive (drive, drive)

I got that summertime, summertime sadness

S-s-summertime, summertime sadness

Got that summertime, summertime sadness

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh"

And I can't stop crying as we merge onto the highway.

"You'll get over him, honey," my Dad says, very gently, "it's better this way, it really is."

I glance at him, my face wet with my tears. One look and I know he knows. Roger, Yvonne, and now my Dad. Who else knows? I have no idea, but I know my Dad knows. He reaches over, he takes my hand. He holds my hand the way he used to when I was a little girl. He squeezes gently. His face says he really does know. He doesn't say anything more. He doesn't need to. There's no judgment on his face, no condemnation, no anger. Just sympathy as he holds my hand. I squeeze back, the tears trickle down my cheeks, the highway unfolds before us, my life moves on, a new chapter opens, an old chapter closes.

I've left you behind forever and it hurts so very much.

You're only a summertime memory.

That's all you are to me now.

All you'll be to me forever.

I loved you so much.

And you loved me.

One summer.

Long ago.

That summer ended nine years ago this August. I never did email you. I never did text you. I never called you and you never contacted me. I did my best to move on, alone, heartbroken, and I did. When I returned home that first Christmas, you were nowhere to be seen. No-one mentioned you to me, then or ever again. Whenever I returned home, I didn't attempt to see you, nor you me.

My love for you faded. That pain I felt dissipated over time. I found another. I love him now, dearly, and he loves me. He knows of you, I've shared my soul with him, he knows what I felt for you and he holds me when I'm sad. His love shields me from the pain and the hurt and that deep sense of loss that now and then I still feel when I think of you, even after all this time.

Two weeks ago, or was it three, out of nowhere, I received an email from you through one of my brothers. You apologized to me for the wrong you'd done me, for the hurt and the betrayal that you'd inflicted on both me and on Yvonne. You apologized to me for your love for me.

This story is my reply to you. I love another now, and always will, but there'll forever be a piece of my heart that belongs to you. It was a small slice in time, a few short months at the end of High School and over that last summer at home. I'll always remember and I'll always cherish the love you felt for me and the love I felt for you. There's nothing about our love for you to apologize to me for, you inflicted no betrayal on me.

The hurt and the pain and the loss at the end of that summer nine years ago was yours and Yvonne's as well as mine, we shared it equally and in my heart there is no blame. You inflicted nothing on me that I didn't ask you for, nothing that I didn't give you willingly. Eagerly, even. There was and is and never will be a single thing for you to apologize to me for. We'll never see each other again, but I loved you once, just as you loved me.

This story is for you and it's my reply to you, in memory of a summer long ago, a love cherished and lost, a heart shattered and broken, a hurt shared equally. There'll always and forever be a piece of my heart that's belongs to you and there's nothing, absolutely nothing, for you to apologize for, now and forever.

I loved you so much.

And you loved me.

One summer.

Long ago.

And a final note from Chloe.Thank you for reading and for allowing me to share this with you. It's truly a privilege to have you all as readers and enjoying my stories.

I actually did get a letter from an old boyfriend two or three weeks ago and this story was started of by that letter. Some of the love I once felt for my old boyfriend. along with the pain and the loss, remains within me. Enough that when I do think of him, even now, sometimes the tears come again. I thank my beloved for shielding me from the worst of my own sad memories and for supporting me through writing a story that poured from my heart and some of which is based far to closely on reality. It was a tough weekend for my beloved as well as for me and I thank him and love him from the bottom of my heart for that and for understanding me and my compulsion to write. He knows that the stories need to come out and he encourages me and he holds me when the emotions and the feelings and the characters are too much for me and I love him for all of that and a lot more.

And finally of course, this is an entry in the 2017 Literotica Summer Lovin Competition. And as with any competition on this website, YOUR ratings are both needed and much appreciated by your teary-eyed author. The rating stars are just below this. Yep, there they are! So go hit one for me, whatever rating you think this story deserves. Comments? I'm not so sure I want to ask for comments on this one the way I usually do but I'll leave that to you. And thanks once again for reading and for encouraging me to keep on writing. .... This one's from my heart and it's for all of you as well as for him .... Chloe