Pineapple Crush

 From my repressed memories:

I would sit on the balcony of a Florida hotel and watch the stars shine over the ocean while waiting to live and die with each buzz of my phone.

It was a secret, one that would hurt us both. 

He told me I was mature for my age and said he wanted to be my first kiss, and I agreed with him.

He got Pineapple Crush from the Casey's in his one-horse town and told me that it was good and that I should try it.

He went for a run and sent me a selfie of himself all sweaty, and I was impressed that he cared about his physical health, and I was glad to see his face because I was young and I thought a selfie sent to my phone meant something,

I was sitting on the balcony of a Florida hotel and watching the stars shine over the ocean when we accidentally stumbled into it being more than just becoming friends.

The woman who is now pregnant with his third child was just a blip in the back of his mind, a name he had met at his college orientation whenever he said that we would have our "someday."

"Someday" was our word, and it meant four years.

"Someday" never came, and I was secretly gutted when he got engaged and enraged when he invited my parents to the wedding. 

I sat on the balcony of a Florida hotel and watched the stars shine over the ocean until I realized it was well after midnight, and I had something to hide. 

Everyone found out anyway, and then acted like they forgot.

Pineapple Crush isn't that good.

-Emma Lancaster