I DIDN'T KNOW

while my friends were getting HIGH and chasing girls down parkway lines, i was losing my mind because the love that I gave WASTED on a nice face. in a blaze of fear I put a helmet on a helmet, ( counting ) seconds through the night and got carried a w a...

[claryalec-deactivated20160301]

[newtypezaku]

[kingskirks]

The “Benny and the Jets” scene from 27 Dresses for panromantical

[howeverlongs]

But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you.

[princesconsuela]

[princesconsuela]

[rossism]

— ROSS’ MEMORIES | 03.

summer fades into fall almost as suddenly as day transitions into night. our final holiday at the house was winding down. the humidity we’d put up with those nights at the boardwalk ceased to exist, the air not so thick with heat. the sun used to sink below the horizon well after nine o’clock, and now everyone was retiring to their rooms before eight. it happened without any of us realizing, but it hits you soon after it starts. 

and with the turn of the seasons, comes the undeniable sadness. except this year was different. it was our last time being together, after growing up alongside the same people for the past eighteen, nineteen years. i rolled my eyes at the girls when they teared up as they reminisced the summers’ passed, but it made my stomach knot. i made jokes about the future to lighten the mood, to express how much it didn’t bother me. but that was far from the truth.

but the nagging thought that refused to let up was how i still never told bianca how i felt about her. there was last year when i attempted, but that doesn’t count. i pretend that never happened, even though damn abby still brings it up. i’ve done a lot of embarrassing things in my life, this isn’t hard to believe. but that day last summer takes the cake.

it was one of those days where almost everyone was in the house, chilling in the living room or chatting on the porch, playing cards in their rooms. somehow it had spread throughout the house that summer was ending and we would never have this to look forward to again. everyone was emotional, whether they chose to show it or not. i hadn’t left my bed all day, leaning against the headboard with remote in hand, channel surfing for the past three hours. bianca sat cross legged at the foot of my bed, looking down at her lap and picking at her nails. i settled on ridiculousness before resting my wrist on my knee, narrowing my eyes at her in curiosity. i noticed i always was wondering what she was thinking, my gaze habitually lingered on her a long few moments after she spoke.

“are you okay?”

i wasn’t sure why i was asking when i knew damn well what was bothering her. all the talk of leaving soon surely doesn’t make you feel good. 

she seemed to know that i knew what the problem was, she jumped right into it. “let’s face it,” she began, finally looking up at me and dropping her hands in her lap. “after this, no one's gonna talk anymore. we're all going to grow out of each other and move on, and summer won't be summer anymore when we cant come here.” her brown eyes again looked away from me, and she sighed, like the thought was a breath she had been holding in for too long.

as usual, i downplayed my own fears that mirrored her own. “that’s not gonna happen, bee. we have skype and snapchat and twitter... the odds of us losing touch are slim to none.” okay, maybe i sounded too confident in our abilities not to forget each other. i rested my head on my hand and nodded, “it’s gonna suck not coming here, that much is true. but everybody can meet up sometimes.”

i was kind of startled with how quickly she turned back to me, and when she started talking with her hands, i knew she was about to deal some real shit. “sometimes.” she repeated, making quotes in the air with her fingers. “sometimes isn’t as great as spending everyday with each other. and annoying the fuck out of each other.” she smacked the back of her right hand into the palm of her left to emphasize each sentence. “being close to everyone and spending time with your best friends.” the slight anger she started the conversation with quickly withered away. she propped her elbows up on her knees and put her face in her hands. she inhaled, a sound of quiet distress, “i can’t do that from paris without being charged a shit ton of money. so even if you all get to do that and be a family again, i’ll be the castaway by myself. over seas in a foreign country.” her voice trailed off, she was no longer talking to me but voicing her own anxieties aloud to herself.

i wanted to comfort her but the conversation took a turn into some unknown territory. unknown to me at least. “paris? what the fuck is that, when did this happen?” i furrowed my eyebrows and blinked a few times.

i don’t think she meant to say anything, judging by how she swung her legs over the side of the bed and folded her arms, closing herself off. “i got accepted into a medical school over there, no big deal..”

“no big deal? okay, bianca.” i mocked, inwardly hating the sting i was trying to put behind my words.

her folded arms slowly shifted as if to hug herself, wrapping her hands around her upper arms. “you weren’t supposed to find out like that.. i was going to tell you just... not now. soon. before we left, though.” she added quickly.

how much sooner was ‘soon’? summer was ending! it was mid august, only a few weeks left. despite her assuring me she would tell me soon, i couldn’t help but wonder if she was just gonna let me go this year, and all the years after wondering whatever happened to bianca ramos. i covered my face with my hands and held onto my hair; i didn’t want to be mad but i couldn’t help it. i was new to the feeling of heartbreak. in any relationship i ever had, granted none were that serious, i had always been the one to call it off, i made it a point to be the heartbreaker. beat them to it, if i had the slightest inclination they wanted to break it off.

bianca and i weren’t even together and i still felt awfully sick. there was absolutely no way i could let that girl go. i’d officially be the stupidest man on the planet to let a girl like her slip away from me. 

but i was mad, like i said. my impulsive instinct was to kick her out of my room, cut her off and save myself the trouble. say our goodbyes when everyone parted ways and maybe i’d recieve a postcard or two the first year away. but soon we’d fade into nothing but memories from the best years of our lives. i think she noticed my anger, my regret, my fear- the whole slew of emotions. i thought i heard her utter a soft apology before she let herself out. 

i stayed in that position for a few minutes, i felt completely lost. sure, it’s not like we planned how we’d still see each other after the summer, before i knew of paris. we didn’t make any promises to visit each other or anything. but for some reason all of a sudden i felt panic. i didn’t want to leave her and i couldn’t. i was never one to be in touch with his feelings but i did know that much.

however, i wasn’t quite sure what my solution was when i found myself jumping up off my bed and nearly running into the hallway. nearly running into bianca, who appeared to be coming back to my room. she spoke frantically and so fast i could barely catch up. “i wish i told you sooner, i really do. but no matter when i told you, you’d always be the hardest goodbye, i know that. i knew that.” she corrected herself. she brought her hands up to the side of her face as she repeatedly apologized, and her rambling was so adorable i softened a bit. without knowing what i was even doing, i grabbed her by her shoulders and asked with just as quick a pace as she spoke with, “i’ll regret it if i don’t even ask. if i don’t ask you to be my girlfriend, even if it’s just for a short while.” to my own surprise, my heart was racing and i tried to contain my shortened breathes. 

she looked up at me with her big, beautiful eyes and just stared at me. before a flashback of the first time i told her i liked her played back in my mind’s eye, she bit back a smile. “don’t make it sound so morbid.” i hadn’t noticed i had stopped breathing altogether. she might’ve sensed my edginess because she quickly responded, “yes, of course. i’d love to.”

before she even finished her sentence i had my arms wrapped around, embracing her small frame. her bony arms reached up around my neck and i buried my face in her hair. it was the best decision i ever made. to not let go.

[galgadotssss-deactivated2016071]

[thestoryandyou]

[fyeahtheroyals]

[scream-gifs]

[ubuyo]

[musinghq]

[sseureki]

[rossism]

— ROSS’ MEMORIES | 02.

something inside me knew she wasn't aware of what happened yet. normally i would never be the bearer of bad news, i didn’t like the weight it put on my shoulders. but before i could even finish making fun of her for eating a whole pie by herself, i blurted out,

“you heard about abby? right?”

bianca’s face transitioned from content to confusion. “what?” she furrowed her brows and studied my face with her chocolate brown eyes.

“abby. she’s in the hospital.” i was surprised at how calm and even my voice sounded. i couldn’t even register what bianca was saying, she told me i was lying but continued to ask what happened. “jai said he thinks she overdosed.”

i was so angry at abigail ramirez. i was angry at myself. she had seemed off all day prior to the incident and i, like the moron i am, didn’t even voice my concern. a simple text shot her way maybe asking, hey you alright? maybe then she wouldn’t have done what she did.

when jai and i went to the hospital to visit her, i couldn’t bear to look at her face. people say that when someone is unconscious or dead they look asleep. i don’t agree with this at all. abby looked like a stranger, laying on those clean white sheets. her expression was stone cold and the beeping of the ventilator gave me chills. jai had taken a seat beside her, his head in his hands. i stayed standing at the door, i didn’t want to go near her. the outer corners of my vision blurred and everything was out of focus except for her. i felt like i walked into a dream, i prayed it was dream. 

as i looked at her laying there, motionless, i faintly heard children’s laughter in the back of my mind. of course i glanced behind me into the hospital’s pristine hallway. when i glanced back towards where abby was, it wasn’t the hospital scene i was in. i was back on the dock, a young abby swinging her legs off the dock, softly humming to herself. i knew she was waiting for bianca. i crept up behind her, wincing as the wooden boards beneath me creaked under my weight. she heard me though, but i was quick. just as she was about to turn her head and catch me, i jumped forward and pushed her into the water. she squealed and as she emerged she had the funniest scowl on her face, but it quickly faded into a smile as she splashed me back up on the dock. her smile was so bright and i felt an ache when i thought about it. i reached by hand out to help her back onto the safety of the solid ground, and once her hand was in mine, i knew we were best friends.

suddenly the crystal waters of the lake and bright sun were gone. it was dark, nighttime, but the stars were clearly visible overhead. i found myself laying on the roof, feeling abby’s body beside mine, the smell of the tequila she brought up with her mixing in with the freshwater air. one moment i was listening to the cicadas chirp and the next abby was telling me about her boyfriend. her voice was unusually unsure, normally she presented herself with such pride and certainty. her voice shook slightly as she told me the real source of her bruising and aches. i wanted to stand up and teach him to think twice before ever laying a finger on her again. the only thing stopping me wasn’t the fact that i’d probably have fallen off the roof if i stood in my drunken state, but her. i didn’t want to upset her, or scare her away after confiding something so personal with me. in fact, i didn’t do anything when she told me, and while the morning after i was mad i didn’t at least try to comfort her with words, i no longer feel this way. after she told me, i simply put my arm around her and pulled her closer as she cried into her knees silently. i think, hopefully, my gestures spoke all the words i couldn’t. 

then the memories came faster. i caught a quick glimpse of us sitting at a table playing cards, that was when i told her the infamous “magic ross” story, to which she spat her soda all over the game and table from laughing so hard. next we were running down the beach, her, bianca and i with kittens in our arms, kicking up sand. later that night bianca and i texted her over and over in a panic that the kittens weren’t strays and we were fucked. i could hear her laugh from her room and after bee and i exchanged a glance we ran up there to tell her we had to take them back. the timeline playing in my head went backwards, for next abby and i sat hand in hand on the porch. i remember she was looking at me in this weird way and my barely pubescent mind was freaking out. am i supposed to kiss her? what is she doing? so i leaned forward with my eyes squeezed shut and kissed her. at the time, i thought i did an okay job and i knew i was her first boyfriend so i figured what did she know. looking back it felt like i was kissing my sister.

thinking about all these memories, these moments that were so important to me and us. abigail ramirez was, is so special, and i loved her. ever since jai told me the news of her accident i was either indifferent and numb or angry. but now, seeing her there in the hospital bed, i felt a completely new emotion. 

i was back in real time now, standing in the doorway of her room, the machines making their noises and buttons blinking. i didn’t even know i was moving my body as i walked towards jai in his chair, but i do remember sitting on the linoleum floor next to his chair and abby’s bed. and i remember pulling over the hood of my sweatshirt and bringing my knees to my chest and crying until the nurse came to kick us out.

[rossism]

— ROSS’ MEMORIES | 01.

what was the most shocking to me, was the look on my dad’s face. i couldn’t remember a time he looked at me like that— with such... pride. in my hands i held the coveted letter, the one he had held out hope on receiving. some argue that my father was vicariously living his youth again through me, achieving his dream of being scouted by the nfl draft; what could have been if he hadn’t gotten into that accident. at first, i thought it too, i knew it. but over time i actually started to love football. i told people I learned to appreciate the game like my father. they nodded in agreement but i could still see the doubt on their faces when they look us over with some serious side eye. but none of their uncertainty mattered when i finally proved to my dad i was capable of something.

which is why it was so damaging to our relationship when i got kicked out.

it was hard to plead innocence to the supervisors and coaches when those drugs were mine. why would they take some stupid college kid’s word over the hard evidence? my father called me as soon as he found out, he didn’t even give me a chance to bring him the bad news. which i guess was for the better in retrospect.

it had been a disgustingly humid wednesday morning on the florida state university football field. practice was finally over and i was feeling on top of the world, which was almost everyday since that letter found itself in my mailbox back in new york i wasn’t the same ross hamilton i was back there— no sir! i was better. i entered the new semester with the ability to make friends with a drop of a hat, and the coaches basically worshipped the ground i walked on. they told me i was one of the few the major league was actually interested in putting on a team.

it didn’t take all of four seconds upon entering the locker room, seeing them standing there in their nicely pressed clothes, for that incredibly high ego of mine to crash down. i remember trying to play it cool, i thought there was no way they found me out. 

my coach was angry at me, i remember vaguely the obscenities yelled in my direction as i cleaned out my locker, how my failure was made an example of for my teammates. i was indifferent, unresponsive the few days after that. the athletic board for the school and the nfl managers attended a small hearing involving the incident. i already knew what happened, i had my dorm all packed up and my suitcases were next to me as i sat before them. my flight back to new york was already accounted for. i was kicked out of school and quite obviously suspended from the draft.

while i remember those moments vividly right before and after i was found out, what follows is a blur. i wasn’t angry until i stepped off the plane at jfk airport. i remember being deep in thought most of that three hour flight but what about, i couldn’t tell you exactly. i made the mistake of entering my house at one in the morning throwing my bags through the door and bursting in, waking everyone up. how stupid. you know the kind of angry where you don’t even yell? you can’t even comprehend your anger? my dad displayed that perfectly. if looks could kill you’d be attending my funeral in a few weeks time. my mother was angry at me not because of football but because “i threw my life away”. i wasted money, time, energy on that school. i scoffed, “more like your time and money.” they didn’t care about how this affected me, they were only concerned with their connection to my failure.

  “don’t think you’re staying here with us. you have to get back on your feet on your own, boy. i’m not tolerating this bullshit anymore.” he told me this the next morning, he said if i didn’t find a place to stay he was kicking me out. “why don’t you just kick me out now? everyone else is,” i suggested, which would’ve earned me a smack upside the head if i didn’t run out the door fast enough.

i walked around the city that day, but not the neighboorhood i grew up in back in chicago. after i left for college in florida my parents moved to new york to downsize. they didn’t need the room for me anymore. or so they thought. i had been thinking real hard about what the fuck i was going to do. of course instead of focusing on the problem at hand (typical), my mind wandered to a simpler time. my happy place was always that beach house in upstate new york. i actually found my heart kind of sink, wondering where those people were now. they would be in college, probably. i broke my promise to most of them, that one that you mean in the moment as your saying goodbye to them. as i sat on an old bench, one that reminded me a lot of the one i had my first kiss on, i recalled the kids one by one and stories about us i thought i’d forgotten. and then i remembered her. i mean, i never really forgot her, i couldn’t if i tried— but the ross back in florida didn’t associate with old ross in any way. her name was bianca ramos. even then, years after i had last seen her, my stomach still fluttered. she was my best friend, and i so easily lost touch after i left for college. i couldn’t believe i became more of a self centered jerk than i already was allowing myself to be. she had always been cute, but then one summer she suddenly was the girl of my dreams. her silly bowl cut had seemed to unexpectedly grow into beautiful long waves, her eyes were so big i could get lost in them (don’t think i didn’t use that pickup line that goes something like “do you have a map? i seem to be getting lost in your eyes” on her before.) throughout my later years of highschool i was whipped for bianca. sure, i had girlfriends but none of them had my heart like she did. in fact, i could pinpoint exactly when i fell in love with her. and surprisingly (since i’ve been told i was a superficial shit), it wasn’t when she entered the beach house that summer looking like a beach goddess. but that’s a story for another time.

the idea went off like a lightbulb above my head, but i quickly turned it off because i couldn’t ask that of her. to stay with her, live with her? the angel on my shoulder warned me it was selfish to ask, and to spring myself upon her after all this time? however the devil on the other side said to just ask and see what she says. what’re the odds she’ll say no to your face if you just straight up ask her? like most times in my life, the little red guy is always better with his words. 

and here i am. standing just outside what apartment i had been told was hers by the man downstairs. i felt so self conscious standing there. what would she see when she opened her door? after looking at the rusting apartment numbers for what felt like an eternity, i finally raised my fist and knocked on the door to what would open to the rest of my life.

[zinf-deactivated20190430]