Wash Away the Memories

She was having another party today. Of course, I was invited; I was considered one of her best friends and have been for the past six months.
But I didn't feel for her the way she did for me.
Her name is Katie, and she was a year younger than me, but I didn't care. When it comes to love, in my opinion, age doesn't mean a thing, though there are limits between "true love" and "pedophile."
Anyway, she loved to throw parties. She's just the sociable type of person, I guess. And I like that. Not afraid to go out and around, no hesitation to make new friends. Rain or shine, she would love to spend the day jamming out with pals to new, upbeat music in her basement. In face, she's already had half a dozen parties just for that matter in the past half-year. At one party, it was raining, and we were all gloomy and loping around the basement. A bright idea suddenly occurred to me, and both Katie and I exclaimed, "Let's go out in the rain!" It was a little awkward, but was soon forgotten as we flooded out the basement door, hooting and howling as we danced and rain around in the rain.
Upon that thought, I glanced out the car window. The clouds were thick and gray, laden with rain about to spill. Ah, well, let the rain come. Maybe this party will be another manic rain dance.
My mom pulled into Katie's driveway. "Have fun."
"I sure will." I climbed out and slammed the car door behind me, already anticipating what would happen at this new crazy get-together.
Mrs. Lee, Katie's mom, must have seen me coming, for the door was open when I approached. I was familiar with the house; Katie's parents knew the usual guest list for a party, and I was near the top. Mrs. Lee stood a little off to the side as I slipped my shoes off next to the door. I noticed mine were the only pair.
"Try not to get yourself too sick," Mrs. Lee said wryly. At the last party, I drank three cans of soda, belched the ABC's twice on camera, then ran to the bathroom and threw up. Over 10,000 Youtube views in under two weeks.
"Aw, I was going to try making it through three times tonight," I said. She smiled warmly and I walked down the basement stairs.
Music was playing, but not as loud as it normally would be at a party. In fact, I was the only person in the basement. Suddenly a thought occurred to me. I was probably the victim of a new prank. Makes complete sense; after all, I had the best reaction to surprises out of my group of friends. Most of the time that included spazzing out and falling on the floor. I moved across the living room area of the basement and down a small hallway. The door at the end was closed. Figures. I walked forward and opened it, expecting a dozen pillows thrown at me or a rain of silly string.
But nothing came.
I walked into the room and saw Katie sitting on a low table to my right, her back to me. She didn't move when the door opened or when I moved inside. I was genuinely confused. What was going on here?
Always the curious one, I walked around the table so I could see her face. She was looking down, dark hair falling freely over her forehead, concealing her face. Her hands clasped around a folded sheet of paper. I had a funny feeling I knew what was written on it. I leaned back lightly against another table, waiting for her to take the initiative. Wordlessly, she held out her hand, offering me the paper. I leaned forward and plucked it gently from her hand. I had only half-unfolded it when I saw the title:
"Minutes."
It was my poem. In journalism class this morning, I slipped it into her backpack while she wasn't looking. Katie knew I was a poet, a writer, for that matter, but she had never read anything of mine that was based off of her. And lately, the collection had been growing. This was the first piece of writing that she had ever seen from my perspective of her.
"Why?" she whispered.
Now I knew why there was no one else here yet.
She had wanted to talk to me privately about my feelings for her....and maybe hers for me.
I pushed the thought away and answered simply, "You know why. Because of how I feel about you. Lately, I've been writing a lot of sentimental stuff like that."
Katie looked up, dark brown eyes sparkling, but with what? Hatred? Tears?....Hurt? "You know I like someone else," she said.
"For how long? A year now? And you told him how you feel, so it's not like he hasn't considered it," I said. "I'm not trying to beat you down or anything, but if it hasn't happened in a year, how come you keep holding onto such a fragile and futile hope?"
Her eyes flashed. "It's not futile."
"How is it not?"
She hesitated. "We've been good friends. We walk a lot, hang out a lot, and I feel like I can tell him anything, relationship or no."
"But does he tell you anything?" I asked softly.
A pang of hurt crossed her face, and she bit her lip.
A sudden thought occurred to me. "You told him about me, didn't you?" I questioned, still quiet but firm.
For a minute, nothing. Then she nodded.
"That explains why he was looking at me when lunch was over today," I muttered.
"He was what?" Katie shook her head. "Never mind. But why show me....this, and now?" She motioned toward the half-folded paper in my hand.
"To show you that I still feel the same way that I did all those months ago," I said. "Even though you don't feel the same way."
I could tell she felt guilty at this, but I didn't blame her for not liking me back. Still, the words just came tumbling out. "I had horrible relationships before. My first girlfriend cheated on me. Twice. Two other girlfriends I hardly ever saw. Yet another didn't even care if the relationship crashed and burned and destroyed our friendship. One of them...." I hesitated, the pain blossoming like a blood red flower in my chest. "She got to fed up with me trying to be friends with her that she threatened to call the police on me."
Katie took in a sharp breath, but I continued on. "I had given up on love. It made a toy out of me and tossed me aside when it grew bored of me. I built up walls around myself so I would never again be hurt by something like that." I could feel tears burning at the back of my eyes, but I held them back. "Until I met you. You tore down those barriers so quickly, I fell head over heels. Apparently, I didn't have the same effect on you." Suddenly I grew weary, as if the venting of my feelings drained me emotionally and spiritually. I made my way for the door, still talking. Katie made no move to stop me. "At first I didn't care that you didn't feel the same way. People are subject to chance. But people have also said to know when to let go and move on. I mean both you and me. But somehow, I don't think I ever will." I paused at the door, hand on the frame. "Sure, I'll probably find someone else, and you will, too, but that doesn't mean I won't stop thinking of Katie, the first girl to break me after a year of solitude. I won't stop thinking of you, whether we remain friends for the next few years....or days."
I left.
She stayed.
We mourned.

Katie sat there for a few more minutes in silence, listening to the door open on the floor above her and close a Luke's departure. Had he really just said all of that? Had she really broken the young man who worked so hard to build walls around himself? She couldn't help but feel guilty, even ashamed that she had involuntarily maimed such a perfect, sweet guy....
Suddenly she leaped to her feet and dashed upstairs. Her mother was in the kitchen. "Mom! Get the car!"
Mrs. Lee looked startled. "What? Why?"
Katie stepped clumsily into her shoes and reached for a jacket. "We need to go out and fine Luke."

I trudged along in the rain, jacket zipped up and hands shoved in my pockets, shoulders hunched against the downpour. I didn't dare call my mom; I said no to the offer Mrs. Lee gave me to drive me ho,e. I had hoped that the cold raindrops would wash away the memory of what just happened. Instead, their icy sting only emphasized how hurt I was inside.
I heard tires squeal against the wet pavement behind me, and a car door opened and slammed. "Luke!"
I stopped dead.
Katie.
I turned around. "What?"
She walked up to me. "Please. Come back. You'll catch a cold out here."
"I could say the same for you," I replied curtly, nodding at her black tank top and jean shorts. "You should probably get back home. After all, you have a part to host."
"There never was a party," she began, but I had already turned and started walking away again. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm sorry."
I stopped again. I knew those words. They were so familiar....
And then it clicked. That was the title of a poem I wrote. It got published in a teen's spring poetry book. Not only that, but I had sent that poem to Katie via e-mail....with a dozen other poems I had created.
"I'm sorry that I hid this from you for so long," she confessed, and I turned around. "I almost didn't want to believe you liked me. The only reason why I continued to crush on Nick was because I was afraid of falling in love with you."
Was this a dream?
"I know how you feel, trying to shield yourself from hurt," she continued. "You've gone through so much as it is, and I was afraid that getting with you would only break your heart in the end."
Maybe I'm in a trance.
"I read that e-mail you sent me every night, the one with the poems on it. I don't know why it took me until now to not only realize my true feelings, but admit them as well. I'm sorry I took so long to say that I love you."
I snapped back to reality. I walked forward until I was standing in front of her. She looked hopeful, and pain flickered through my being. "I knew this would get to you, not to sound like some psychic freak. I knew that you cared for me, deep down somewhere inside of you. But do you want to know the cruel irony of the situation? It's too late."
She stepped back as if I had slapped her.
"The moment I walked out of your front door today, I knew what all of this was," I said bitterly. "Love was playing with me once again. All those times before, it never broke me; I kept repairing myself, getting back up, time and time again. And when I walked away, I knew that you would come running, right after I had given up on all hope." My voice cracked. "It's over, Katie. It was always over. Before it ever started."
I turned and walked away for the last time. I didn't even look back. Not even a glance over my shoulder to see the raindrops mixing with tears upon her beautiful face.
On the next block, I found a public trash can. I took the folded poem out of my pocket, spread it out - and laid it across the top of the metal can to disintegrate in the rain.
So dissolved my last thought of her.
So dissolved every memory of her.
So dissolved my ability to love again.
There was one line I had erased at the end of the poem before giving it to Katie. It read:

"From the minute I met you, you were everything to me.
From the minute I met you, I knew we would never be."