no savior.

no(thing) more

Dear Kaylie Jane,

I started writing again after I met you.  Or at least, after I met you the second time. Maybe it was because finally I'd been introduced to an activity that now me and past me shared. Or maybe it was because you were so irritating i needed a pen and paper in hand to figure out what you were doing.

The more I wrote about you though, the better I remembered, and the better things Past Me wrote about you made sense. I didn't know a lot when I decided to surprise visit your house.

I know more now.

Between your stories about us, my journals, and my memories---- I know a lot more.

I don't have a lot of past memories with you. The ones I have are, so you tell me, "fabricated memories" from stories you tell me about us. Even after all this time you don't trust my memory.

But I have one that I don't ever tell you about. I don't think you'd know how to act if I told you.

Told you what exactly?

Well, I remember our first time together. Its foggy, but it's there. I remember the feel of your hoodie on my skin. The cold air as I walked to your house. My knees scraping across your windowsill. My heart almost thudding out of my chest.

And I remember you.

I remember how clumsy you were with everything. How your lips were kind of chapped. The nervous energy shooting off of you. How I had to walk you through the whole thing. How awkward you were when we were done.

I remember my heart racing so fast I thought I was having a heart attack. I remember being terrified you'd push me away. Even more scared your dad would catch us.

But most importantly I remember how all of that went away when you held me the rest of the night. Then the next day you asked to make us official.

I remember that night because before anything even happened, that was the night I truly realized I was in love with you.

When my sweatshirt came off, you didn't look down. You looked me in my eyes. You didn't say anything about my body, cause I know you noticed how much of me was noticeable. You just held my gaze. Part of it I think was terror. But I know that you wanted to look so bad. Ray would've looked. Even Mira would've looked. You didn't.

I know you don't like to talk about our first time. Especially because you know that it was only your first time. But I do. I like that it was so sweet. When you tell the story you make it seem like it was perfect. It wasn't. We weren't.

When you piss me off I think about that night. Later you asked me if you were "good" and I told you yes. Which was a lie. But I told you yes for some reason.

Maybe because of all the fear I was experiencing in that moment. Maybe because when I crawled into your window that night I hadn't planned anything to happen. I hadn't planned things to move so quickly. Maybe because I had just told you I loved you and wanted to both take it back and say it again.

Like I said. I think about that night a lot.

The other day, I wanted to beat your ass because you were being stupid.

You looked at me and said, "I'm not coming home tonight." And because you know I get anxious when you say things like that, you added, "Nat is in town and I'm going to Beck's for dinner."

But you know what you didn't say? You didn't say, "Happy birthday, Baby."

Why?

Because you're stupid. But that's okay. I knew that about you when I married you.

So instead of breaking our coffeepot over your head I let you go about being an idiot.

Nat is not an idiot however, and I'm thankful for her being your best friend. Here's what I imagined happened at Beck's:

Beck: Its cool that Layne's letting you stay the night.

You: *something macho about me not running you even though I do and you let me*

Nat: *calling you out on your overconfidence*

You: *speechless because you know she's right*

Nat: *checking Facebook* She letting you stay over even though it's her birthday?

You: *something dumb probably*

Beck: Wowwww you didn't know?

You: *lying probably*

Nat: Crazy how you didn't know it was her birthday.

Beck: Isn't she mad?

You: *just realizing this* I gotta go.

And that's how you ended up back home at two in the morning, cooking me an entire birthday dinner.

Before any of that happened though, I fell asleep to the memory of me taking your virginity. I let myself feel seventeen again. Feel the uncertainty of what was next. I've survived that uncertainty, and now we're married, so I feel like I can survive any uncertainty with you.

But that's not all I remember.

I remember our first kiss too. Still today you don't understand how jealous I get, so I know you didn't understand my frustration during spin the bottle. I was in that circle for one reason and one only and that was to kiss you, not watch you be kissed. And by the time the game had finished, we left, and had driven home, I'd decided I was going to kiss you regardless.

And you let me. Till this day you never turn down a kiss from me.

You rarely even tell me 'no.' Even though you're an asshole a lot of the time, you still spoil me rotten. There hasn't been a day when I've questioned if you loved me. You don't let the thought even cross my mind.

Since the first day we met you've indulged me.

I remember that day as well. Your hair. Your outfit. All of it. You were outside introducing yourself to Dil and I saw you. And somehow I knew that you were going to be my person.

Don't ask me why. I just knew.

Maybe that's what compelled me to sit across from you in the library that day. Or first conversation I could tell you wanted to be alone. But I wanted nothing more but to be with you.

We've grown since being seventeen. I used to think of you as my savior. I thought that you were my missing piece.

When we reunited, I wanted nothing more than to get my life together. I thought again that you were the one to do that. So then I wanted you. Then I wanted you to want me back. You wanted me to move on.

I wanted Vin to move out.

I know now you aren't my savior. I know you've got your religion thing going on, but I don't believe in saviors. Nobody saves us but us.

You're no savior, Kaylie Jane. But you do make my life infinitely better.

We don't always agree on things. Even as I write this we aren't talking because I want Indian for dinner and you want something stupid. But still, one then we agreed on at the altar was to love each other unconditionally. Support each other. Be there for one another. And give the other our all.

And today I can say you've given me nothing less.

I love you,

Layne