The following reflection was written in 2003, when I was between 25 and 26 years old.

It was only reluctantly that I accepted Tracy’s invitation to hang out at Shawn’s house in the night’s preceding the dawn of the rest of my life. I had a sense I think, even before I arrived, that his final bit of business might bring me closure after nearly three long years. I got in my car, drove my parents’ house up to North Chelmsford, into the same condo complex that JonMartin lived in, past Jon’s place, and down into the parking lot in front of Shawn’s. I got out of the car, locked the door and went in.

I don’t think Shawn was there at first. I think it was Tracy, Amity, and me. Come to think of it, Shawn probably was there but in the early moments, I just remember hanging out with Tracy and Amity because I had never been very close with Shawn. He was the guy that the “love of my life” to that point had ended up with. You understand.

We played some crazy game that involved humming tunes that were on a card to try and get your teammate to guess them. I think it was guys versus girls or in the beginning it was Tracy and Amity versus me. It wasn’t particularly fun and they treated me in the same way as they had in high school, like I was a lesser creature because I had a dick. It was amusing at first. It was fun to fall into that familiar groove again, but I soon realized I’d moved on from that and I was disappointed that they hadn’t done the same.

Pete, Amity’s boyfriend, eventually showed up and he was the same old Pete — nice enough, but very hard to get a read on. I enjoyed the few minutes I spent with the whole gang of them around more than I enjoyed the early moments I spent with Tracy and Amity alone.

Soon, but probably not soon enough, it was time to leave the awkward evening. I had been hoping, after all, that when I met Tracy again just a few days before, that she wouldn’t be with Shawn anymore. Now, as I left that townhouse, promising that we would keep in touch (though I knew it was an empty promise on all our parts), I was both sad and happy she was still with him. I was sad that I couldn’t have that one last chance to see if would work, but I was happy… happy because I suspected it wouldn’t have worked. Though I still adored her fiery personality, it was clear to me that I had finally moved on.

I got into my car, turned the key, and finally, after far too long, moved on with my life.