How To Be The Best Third Wheel

Original Edition - Tip 32: Try to Move on

I remember that day. I remember that day quite clearly, actually. It was the worst day of many worst days. The sun was setting, a bright red-orange fire replaced the once blue sky,  and I was choking on tears. Funny, I still feel the same.

~~~

Sunshine Park, Toronto~August {3 years ago}

I am lost.

What the heck did I get myself into this time?

After a ketchup packet exploded on my white shirt, I ran off to wherever the washrooms were, leaving James and Eliza. Not that they minded me leaving, they were probably really happy about it. Now, the stain is till there, but my shirt is just wet.  Now, I am lost. And frustrated.

I walk on, looking around. Everything is familiar, of course it is, I've walked here before. I just don't know the way back. Staring at the horizon, I admire the beauty of the soon-to-be setting sun and it's reflection on the water. Beautiful. A few little kids are playing on the big playground and I laugh, remembering the times where we did that.

Lara, Eliza, and James. What a group we were.

Donn't get me wrong, we are still a group. Although, something's just off. I can't really put my finger on it, but it doesn't feel the same. I know that there's something going on between James and Eliza, but whatever. Honestly, it's not even a big deal.

They're cute together. Yeah.

What am I saying? They don't even like each other...do they? Besides, if they do, then I call being the maid of honor at their wedding.

Subconscious: Liar, liar pants on fire, drag your butt to Canadian tire. You're pretty lame, but you like James, so don't you pretend you want to be just friends.

The cringe is real. I hate my subconscious too. But hey, at least he can come up with a good rhyme? Ah, how I love the cringy things I think of in this big ball of ground meat I call a brain.

I stroll on, continuing to think about the facts, when I finally see the small playground hidden in a circle of trees. This is where we were, before the ketchup disaster. This place was the old playground where James and I always hung out, We went from him showing off on the monkey bars to sitting on the same bench under the willow tree, talking about life. Other times, we'd sit, not talking, just listening to the calming sound of the breeze and the faded crashes of the waves onto the shore. I'd rest my head on his shoulder and he'd play with my tangled hair.

When Eliza started visiting more frequently, we shared our place with her. I was kind of like our secret hangout. Like a spy base or something.

I push past the pine tree branches and make my way to the playground.

That's when I see it.

Him.

Her.

They're sitting on our bench. His fingers are in her hair. His lips are on hers. It looks like a scene from a movie, with a blazing sunset accompanying their passionate kiss. It should be us. It should be me over there. Why isn't it me? Then it hits me.