The Last Time
Welcome to our column written by Managing Editor Caitlyn Mae Araña, called Catching Up With Caitlyn. Through letters, she addresses the trials and tribulations that come with learning and growing as a 20-something.
This semester, she will be focusing on one particular narrative that has impacted her over the years, although not all articles will be about this one situation. So, tune in for your weekly dose of drama and strap in ladies and gents… Nothing is off limits here.
Dear Jacob*,
Now that all the years of backstory have been established, we can finally move on to the actual story. After all the drama had been said and done, you and I barely spoke—it was hardly an option. Occasionally. I’d apologize to you about everything that we’ve gone through, and you’d say, “I could never hate you.” I laugh at that now. You definitely could hate me.
When we got back on speaking terms, I was a senior in high school and you were (I think) finishing up your first semester in college. It was December. At this time, I had noticed a pattern, and maybe it was all in my head, but we always got back together during the winter. We never made it into summer. And once again, like all the times before, it was a case of bad timing and feelings that were in all the wrong places.
The bad timing had a lot to do with the fact that you were planning on enlisting in the Air Force and were going to be away for a while. The feelings part had to do with the fact that you still loved someone else. Of course, you didn’t tell me this until after I had already found out. Hence, an embarrassing, under-the-influence call to you that New Years Eve. I guess it would’ve been only mildly embarrassing if you picked up the phone or if I had even left a voicemail. But no—instead, it was extremely embarrassing due to the fact that after the automated voice told me that your voicemail was full, I chose to send you multiple Snapchat videos, proclaiming, “if you want to love her, you should love her!” I know. Embarrassing.
Needless to say, after that, we didn’t speak again for another few months. It wasn’t until a few days before your sister’s graduation party when we finally spoke again, following that embarrassing failed phone call and Snapchat montage. You told me that your sister had asked you for permission to invite me because she didn’t want it to be awkward for you, and you said it was fine. So, we started texting and talking over the phone, like old times. We were friends. You talked me through my dilemma with Ben*, and things were okay again. I had caught you up to speed on the whole Ricky* situation from two years prior. Hell, you even came to my senior showcase performance.
At your sister’s graduation party, it was a bit awkward at first—not between you and me, but more between me and your entire family. Seeing your parents for the first time in over four years was trippy to me. Your mom even referenced me as “little Caitlyn.” It was cute.
You drank throughout the day along with everyone else. Of course, I don’t remember all the minor details, but I remember seating myself in a circle with everyone else and propping my legs up on another chair next to me because my feet and ankles hurt. Somehow, by the end of the night, you were sitting next to me, my legs on your lap, and we were having full-blown conversations. It was kind of nice, almost like nothing bad had ever happened.
Later that night, I didn’t have a ride home. You offered to stop drinking to sober up and be able to drive me home. For some reason, that shocked your family. I guess it must be difficult to get you to stop drinking… I don’t know. But apparently it was out of character, yet you still drove me home.
I don’t remember much about what happened between then and the nights between until we decided to get back together, but I do remember hanging out a lot, you motivating me to study for my physics final, and I even remember you still trying to help me sort out my Ben issues while we simultaneously gained our feelings back for each other. You were kind and sweet and supportive. I mean, how could I not fall in love with you?
But also… how could I fall in love with you? My best friend, Alyssa, hated you. You dated my other friend. You showed me the version of you that wasn’t trustworthy. But then, there you were—a new version of yourself, just a few years later. And I wanted to be with you. You had earned my trust back, and I felt like we could give it another chance. And 17-year-old me thought, After all, this was during the summer. We had never gone out in the summer.
I guess I was hoping that seasons were lined up right this time. So, I had a serious conversation with myself. If this is it, then this is it. If it doesn’t work out this time around, then you have to let it go. You have to let him go. I made a deal with myself, and when you asked me to be your girlfriend, I said yes.
Only Love,
Caitlyn Mae
*Names have been changed to maintain integrity