Based on Taylor Swift’s All Too Well (Ten Minute Version)
I walked through the door with you. The air was cold, but something about it felt like home somehow. And I, left my scarf there at your sister's house, and you've still got it in your drawer even now
We finally made it to his house, after a few weeks of dating, he decided to introduce me to his sister - well chosen sister - and her fiancé. Erin Mitchell's opinion of me was what I considered to be the most important opinion. They were so close and I knew her opinion was important to Bradley.
The drive was beautiful to his sister’s upstate New York home, the leaves finally changed color and the air was crisp and cool. My nerves completely disappearing because I was with him. His hand rested on my upper thigh, the other on the wheel, smiling at me like I'm the most beautiful sunset over the ocean. I hide my flushed cheeks under my scarf, but he gently pulls it down.
"Don't hide your blush, it's so cute on you." He leans over, mumbling in my ear and I shake my head with a smile.
“No, it isn’t. Pay attention to the road,” I giggle and he pulls away, smirking. I know that he knows how he effects me, and he plays into that all the time. It's like we're two teenagers who can't seem to get enough of each other, stuck in the puppy dog phase, ignoring any possible red flag.
By the end of dinner, I was so distracted that my scarf stayed on the coat hanger after we left. I was excited how nice his sister was, and I was excited to get back home for other reasons.
Oh, your sweet disposition, and my wide-eyed gaze, we're singing in the car, getting lost upstate. Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place, and I can picture it after all these days. And I know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more, and I might be okay but I'm not fine at all. 'Cause there we are again on that little town street, you almost ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me. Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well.
Days later, we went on a random adventure, just driving to get away from the city I call home. The leaves finally starting to fall signaling the upcoming change in seasons. We started leaving the puppy dog love phase, he spent more time with his pilot friends, refusing to introduce me. It felt like I was doing something wrong, but being in the car with him, singing along to the radio, dissipated all my fears. The world could be falling apart around us, but we wouldn’t know. Our eyes were blind to everything except for each other.
I slightly hated the fact that the top of his Jeep was down, my hair gets so knotted after a drive, but it meant spending time with him.
We approached a small, sleepy, one stoplight town, and I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my head. I look over, smiling at him, until I see the light change out of the corner of my eye.
“Bradley! Bradley, red light!” I panic and he slams on the breaks, nearly running the only red light this town has. After recovering my breath, we burst into a puddle of laughter. “You almost ran the red because you were looking over at me!”
“I was looking at the most beautiful thing in this town, sorry.”
Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red. You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed, and your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee-ball team. You told me 'bout your past thinking your future was me, and I know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do. And I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to.
His mom lived in the next town over, so we made a stop. I wanted to visit the person who brought life to the man I loved. She told me about his love for baseball that started when he was young. How he was so good, he could've went pro, but flying had his heart. I smiled adoringly, looking over to Bradley, he was still just as cute as he was as a kid. He traded in his childhood glasses for the aviators he always wore, hiding his true feelings shown in his intoxicating irises. His mom telling me that I was the first girl he brought home made me think we had a long future ahead of us, that this love was serious enough to survive any length of time he spent away for a mission. But he has yet to say those four letters.
And you were tossing me the car keys, "fuck the patriarchy" keychain on the ground, we were always skipping town. And I was thinking on the drive down, any time now "he's gonna say it's love," you never called it what it was 'til we were dead and gone and buried. Check the pulse and come back swearing it's the same after three months in the grave. And then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you, but all I felt was shame and you held my lifeless frame.
After dinner we walked out to his Jeep and he let me drive back for once, tossing me the car keys, but I’m a terrible catch. They fall onto the ground, inches in front of my feet. I notice the little keychain I bought him as a gag gift proudly on display. It felt like a true partnership. Like there was an unspoken trust between us that couldn't be broken.
Driving back, it was starting to feel like we were the most in love we ever were, and that was most likely the case. It would be the last time I ever got to drive the convertible, and I would never hear the three words I wanted to say so bad. Three words so small, yet so impactful. The words that can burn larger than any fire, but die faster than the speed of sound. Thinking about it now, I know that it was the last time our hearts would beat for the other. Our love would die without a known cause.
I wish I could hold him one more time, but he would never feel the same way for me again.
'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night. We're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light. Down the stairs, I was there. I remember it all too well, yeah. And there we are again when nobody had to know. You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath. Sacred prayer and we'd swear to remember it all too well, yeah.
Once we got home, he put on a jazz soundtrack, something his dad used to listen to. He lost his dad when he was only four, but his dad left behind his record collection for Bradley. Bradley has always felt connected to his father through the music he listens to.
I started preparing a late dinner, pulling the ingredients I need from the fridge, until he pulls me back and turns me to face him, hands on my waist. He sings along with the song playing on the record player and we dance around, the only light flooding the space of the kitchen coming from the open fridge. It was one of the last moments of happiness we would have, I wish I would've known.
"Soon, but I just want to keep you to myself right now." From the way he says that, I know he hasn't mentioned me to them. My mind spins as I think "Is this love as real for him as it is for me?" I don’t want to be his dirty little secret.
And maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much. But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up. Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well. And you call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest. I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here 'cause I remember it all, all, all too well.
Only days later, we got into the worst fight over how he treated me around his friends the first - and only - time I got to meet them, like he's too cool for me. Like the words we shared at night or when we were alone meant nothing to him. So I stormed out like a child, running away as fast as I could.
But when he called later that night, all my defenses wore down, crumbling to the ground. We made up in the late hours of the night, kissing and touching each other like there was no tomorrow, to only break up the next day. He gave no reason, but while my body felt used, my heart felt broken all over again.
It didn’t last long though, he was on my doorstep with a bouquet of roses not even a few hours later. “I’m sorry.”
They say all's well that ends well, but I'm in a new Hell every time you double-cross my mind. You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would have been fine, and that made me want to die. The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you? Not weeping in a party bathroom, some actress asking me what happened, you. That's what happened, you. You who charmed my dad with self-effacing jokes, sipping coffee like you're on a late-night show. But then he watched me watch the front door all night, willing you to come, and he said, "It's supposed to be fun turning twenty-one".
Winter was my favorite time of the year, it meant that it was finally my birthday. And this year’s winter was the most important, because I was finally going to be 21. So when we got in a small fight the day before my birthday, I didn't think he would miss my party. Not after he charmed my parents endlessly a few weeks ago. I watch the door, ignoring all my friends who came to celebrate me, waiting to watch him walk in.
But I should’ve known it was going to be over after he bailed on a party later that week we were supposed to go to. I shouldn't have been comforted by someone I didn't know because he ditched me twice in one week. Both times I spent more time watching the door for him to magically appear, carrying a bouquet of flowers, apologizing for being late, greeting me with a kiss. But it never happened. I drowned my sorrows in a glass of red wine at the party, trying to disappear.
"It's not going to work out," Bradley states, days after the second party. I only see him because I begged him to come over so we could talk. Talking turned into kissing, making up, and fucking. All before he finally says those six words, strung into a sentence that cuts me like a knife.
"What? What do you mean by that? Did everything that just happened mean nothing to you?"
Looking away he mumbles something along the lines of the age gap - five years - was too much for him to deal with and that I acted like a child. I never asked anything of him in our relationship, just that he show up for my birthday.
Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it. I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it. After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own, now you mail back my things and I walk home alone. But you keep my old scarf from that very first week, 'cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me. You can't get rid of it, 'cause you remember it all too well, yeah. 'Cause there we are again when I loved you so, back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known. It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well. Wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all. Down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all. It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well.
I'm lying in my bed, tissues strewn across my bedroom floor from angry sobs, thinking about how foolish I was to love someone who could never love me back in the same way. How I lost the best part of me to someone I thought I would be with forever. The person I gave everything to. Sleepless nights spent making love to one another, and only wearing his flannel in the morning. Then a package arrives, adding salt to the wound, a cruel reminder of how committed I thought we were to the other. My things that I left at his place from those nights are inside, solidifying the end of a once beautiful relationship. The only thing missing being my favorite scarf, maybe his sister kept it, but I'll never know.
And I was never good at telling jokes, but the punch line goes "I'll get older, but your lovers stay my age". From when your Brooklyn broke my skin and bones, I'm a soldier who's returning half her weight. And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue? Just between us, did the love affair maim you, too? 'Cause in this city's barren cold, I still remember the first fall of snow, and how it glistened as it fell. I remember it all too well.
I look out the window at the snow falling, covering the NYC streets we were walking together just weeks ago. I check my phone and scroll through social media, before stoping on a post from one of Bradley's friends. He's in the photo, arm around another woman. No, she's just a girl, looking to be my age. I was too young?
Another sob almost comes out, but I instead get up and put on my coat, hat, and gloves. I go for a walk for the first time in two weeks. The cold freezing my tears and despite all the people walking around me, I just feel alone and broken. Is this what true heartbreak feels like? Will I ever get over it?
Just between us, did the love affair maim you all too well? Just between us, do you remember it all too well? Just between us, I remember it (Just between us), all too well. Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there. Down the stairs, I was there, I was there. Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there. It was rare, you remember it all too well. Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there. Down the stairs, I was there, I was there. Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there. It was rare, you remember it. Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there. Down the stairs, I was there, I was there. Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there. It was rare, you remember it. Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there. Down the stairs, I was there, I was there. Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there. It was rare, you remember it.
As I walk, I think about every moment we had, trying to piece together where it took a turn for the worst, because I remember every moment we had together, it's tattooed on my brain. Does Bradley feel how I do right now? Is he thinking about the moments we shared, the car rides and stolen kisses? Or his he with that other girl, doing the same things we did when we were together.
I stop in a coffee shop, pulling out the notebook I stuffed in my bag, and start writing down every detail. It feels cathartic, like I'm finally mending my shattered heart. The pieces fitting back together, albeit not perfectly, like a glass that was dropped on the floor.
As I write, I know in my heart that he remembers everything, and that he may regret what happened. But I realize that yes, it hurts and I loved him with everything in me to only be the one with her heart broke, yet I wouldn't change a thing.
I don't notice Bradley walking past the coffee shop, I don't notice the look on his face when I sees me, how he almost comes in and tries to fix things, or how he walks away after watching me for a moment because he knows what we had couldn't be fixed. It couldn't be brought back to life. And I never get another message or call from Bradley Bradshaw because we both remember what happened all too well.
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