I was born at a very young age. I'm just kidding. This story starts a few years after that. 11, to be exact.

My dad got a new job, so we moved halfway across the country to a small town in the desert. That summer was unusually rainy, but for me any my siblings, it was normal. Ohio kinda ruins you a bit for the wonder that is water falling from the sky.

I started 6th grade after living in this new town for about 2 months. I knew no one. I had no friends. And I had no idea what was in store for me at middle school.

After the first tortuous weeks, I made a few friends. Kiley and Max became my "friend group." I adored Kiley. She was cool, and pretty, and smart, and oh so friendly. I looked up to her and was so happy when I was around her. I loved hearing her talk about books, and movies, and boys she liked, and the Max she liked. Max. Kiley liked Max.

Now Max, in 6th grade, was a class clown. He talked back to the teacher and was loud and funny. Lots of girls liked him. Including Kiley. And since I was a good friend, I did everything I could to help them get together. And they did! In 7th grade.

In 7th grade I didn't have any classes with Kiley or Max, so I didn't seek them out to talk to them. But Kiley came and talked to me. And asked me for help with her homework. So I explained it to her, but she shook her head and asked me to just do it for her. I refused. That's cheating. She looked annoyed and did it herself. Something broke that day, I think. I didn't realize it, but me sticking to my morals pushed her away.

I didn't specifically try to stay friends with Max because of reasons I still don't know or understand. So I was quiet around him and didn't talk to him the way I did before.

Kiley started talking to Max more. When she talked to me, it was about Max. I could never get a word in edgewise about myself. Not that I enjoy talking about myself, but sometimes you need to rant. I never could. But since I was a good friend, I let it slide.

I made new friends during that year. Journey and I bonded after she moved into my neighborhood. I had a few classes with her, and she was cool.

Middle school was a very traumatic time for me. I think I blocked out large portions of those 3 years, cause I can't remember them at all. Not the normal, you're getting older and so you forget your childhood forgetting. I think I just shut things out of my brain so I wouldn't have to think about them anymore.

Because of this, I don't remember where this memory fits into the story line, but it is still so vivid. I was in a assembly in the huge gym. I was sitting by Journey and I was doing her hair. For some reason, I was mad at Kiley that day. Now, I don't normally get mad, so that's an oddity by itself. I saw Kiley across the gym and she caught my eye and motioned me over towards the hallway by the gym. I walked out flanked by Journey, and Kiley walked towards me with Max at her heels. It was like a scene from a movie, where the good guys walk towards the bad guys in slow motion. After that, my memory is blank. I don't remember why, but I walked away feeling bad about what I said. I went home and felt so bad that I called Kiley and said sorry. She said it was all okay and our friendship was fine again.

I wish I could remember why I was mad at her, or what I said. I bet it would be interesting. I could just make it up, but this is autobiographical, not "based on a true story." And it's my story. And it's about to get messy. Just you wait.

I am about to let you know the thing I regret doing the most. You ready?

We're still in 7th grade. This was towards the end of the year. Kiley and I were standing outside my teacher's door, waiting for them to let us in to class. I had watched Zootopia the night before with my family. You guys remember who Clawhauser is, right? The lovable cheetah who works at the reception desk who loves donuts? Good, I'm glad we are on the same page.

As I stood there, I turned to Kiley and said, "You know, Max reminds me a lot of Clawhauser." And then I snickered.

I didn't learn until later, way way later, that Max was there, and he heard me. And he thought that I meant he was fat.

Max's humor had reminded me of Clawhauser's humor. I thought Max was funny! Not fat!

Now, I don't even remember Max ever being pudgy, let alone fat. It's not even in my brain. I have actually racked my brain, trying to remember a time when he didn't look the way that he does now. I can't. It's gone.

Kiley told me during the summer between 7th and 8th grade. Ever since that point I have regretting making that comment. I wish I could take it back. But I can't. So we move on with our story.

Kiley invited me to a end of school party at her house. I went, and made some core memories.

Sitting at a table, playing Jenga, feeling my face get hot as I get more excited, and turning to Kiley's little sister and getting mad at her for shaking the table. Instantly regretting it as the little girl's face fell.

Playing ghost in the graveyard, and walking down a dark path by the barn. Seeing someone come out of the shadows, realizing it was Max, and feeling intense fear as he charges towards me to tag me.

Standing literally in a tree while they go around looking for everyone, and feeling a pain in my gut when they start the next round without realizing I hadn't been found.

7th grade ended not a moment too soon, and I went on with my life. Kiley asked to hang out a couple times that summer, and I did once or twice. I'm not the hang out type. I did email her a lot though. In fact, email ended that relationship.

Kiley had been driving me crazy, always mentioning Max. "Max grew 6 inches in two months this summer." "Max held my hand all day yesterday." "Max called me yesterday from his closet so his siblings wouldn't bug him about talking to me." I was going insane. So one day I snapped. I don't remember what I wrote exactly, but it was along the lines of, "I'm sick of you always talking about Max, even though he will never care about you as much as I do." At least that's what I think I said. Like I mentioned earlier, I blocked a lot of things out of my head.

Now I went to school thinking everything was fine. Kiley hadn't emailed me in a bit, but I was busy so I didn't think much of it. I remember waving at her, but she didn't wave back.

She was mad. Very mad. She stayed mad at me for a year and half. I spent 8th grade lonely, bored, and sad. That year went by in a blur.

Which brings us to high school.

High School was horrible.

I think all those glamorized movies and books where the boy meets girl, problems happen, and then they get together and kiss while angels sing around them made me feel better about myself, not worse. I knew that they were fake, so I soaked up the happiness and didn't expect it to happen to me.

I don't know why, but I have never expected to get my prince charming. I know I will find him, I just think that he won't choose me. But I'm getting down a rabbit hole that I can discuss later. Back to my drama.

In 9th grade I didn't have any classes with Max. By this point, we basically didn't acknowledge that the other person existed. I know this is entirely my fault. Max is the sweetest guy, and he tried many times to reach out to me, but I was hurting from too many things to let him in. So we became strangers to each other.

Max joined the swim team. Kiley told me that he joined to loose some weight.

I got through freshman year without dying entirely. I call that a win.

In 10th grade I had one class with Max. Honors English. That was honestly the most useless class I have ever had in my life. I don't think I learned a single new thing during the entire year. I sat in the same seat for two quarterly seating charts. The teacher didn't hate me, but she didn't like me.

Max was the highlight of that class. He always made funny remarks and made me smile even when I felt like the day was horrible and I wanted to sink through the cracks in the floor and never be seen again. It was in that class that I wanted to be friends with him again. I never made a move though. I knew, and know, that if we are going to be friends again it is entirely up to me.

Three months before the end of the year, Covid hit. We got sent into quarantine, and not a moment too soon. I was dying. My friend troubles combined with my toxic perfectionism made me want to quit life and live in a white box all day.

I could write a whole 'nother post on why I was dying that year, but since it has nothing to do with my story, we are gonna move on.

I spent the rest of the summer wanting to change. I was sick of the way I was handling things, and wanted to be better, and do better.

So of course the first thing I did next school year was avoid all my problems.

Now we are approaching the end of my public schooling. I consider my 11th grade year my Senior year, because I graduated a year early. Plus I had senioritis so bad, I might as well have been a real Senior.

This year I could drive, and I always parked in a church parking lot by the school so I could avoid the craziness of the school parking lot. Turns out, Max also parked there. I literally memorized his schedule so I would always arrive earlier than him so I wouldn't have to awkwardly walk by him to get to school.

I had 4 classes with Max. Two every single day. It would have been 5, but we got put in separate classes at the last moment.

I really loved having Max in my classes. He still had some class clown-ness in him, but knew how to bridle it in. I looked forward to the periods that I had with him all day, and when he wasn't there, I got really sad.

In one class we would watch CNN 10 every morning before class, and Max absolutely loved Carl Azuz. When we didn't have time one day to watch it, Max pulled out his phone and started watching it himself.

One day Max was sad. I never learned why, but I left a note on his car saying that he was awesome. I didn't sign it. I don't know if he ever even got it. I hope he did.

It was this year that I realized I had a massive crush on him. I'm pretty sure I've had one since 6th grade, but I never admitted it to myself since Kiley was my best friend. This was the worst year to figure it out though, because he got a girlfriend.

His girlfriend was beautiful, short, happy, and just the perfect person. They were together for a very long time. I don't know why they eventually broke up, but Max looked like a kicked puppy that day.

I remember every kind word Max said to me directly that year.

"Your beanie is cute."

"Rosemary! You're back! We missed you."

"You're graduating early? That's awesome!"

Max started wearing suits on Wednesday and called it Dress Up day. I decided to follow the trend. No one else ended up doing it. So it was just me and him. Looking back, I hope he didn't realize why I did it.

At the end of the year, we had a huge final for Spanish. We could take a huge test covering everything we went over that year, or make a pinata. A group of about 6 of us in the class decided to make a giant pinata that was a remake of one of the posters in the room. Max was part of the group. That project put me in closer proximity with him then I'd been since 6th grade, when I'd hit him in the ankles with books.

I got all shaky, and couldn't talk to him, even though I really wanted to. I really, really wanted to. I wanted to say sorry. I wanted to be friends again. For me, being friends is more important then any romantic aspirations I might have.

But I couldn't talk.

Looking back, I wonder why I didn't just put a note on his car saying sorry for what I did. That would have been the most painless solution. But I didn't.

I graduated that summer, and thought I would never see Max again. But I did. Because of course it would happen that way.

Now we come to the void. A year and a half where I didn't have school, didn't have responsibilities, and didn't have anything I had to work towards. I spent the first 6 months detoxing from school. I did nothing productive, and talked to no one.

After a little while I started to feel better. I started writing again. I made a Youtube channel. I got a job. I applied to colleges.

I took some religion classes at local university. Every Tuesday night at 5:30, I would pull into the parking lot. One day I saw him.

I though it was Max. But why would Max be here? He's not in college. That doesn't make any sense. It's just gotta be someone who looks like Max.

But the next week, I saw him again. And then I saw someone else I recognized. All of them were kids from my grade. What?

Then I realized where I was. The building my class was in was right next to the pool. Max did swim. Ohhhh. They must get out right as my class starts. That makes so much sense!

One day I decided that I was going to apologize. And I was gonna do it the next Tuesday. So that day I came early for class and waited in the parking lot. Everyone started leaving the building, but I never saw Max. Eventually I had to go inside for my class. Of course the one day I decide to do the right thing Max isn't even there.

So I went on with my life. Swim ended the next week, so that chance was blown.

But because my life is my life, I saw him again.

Max wasn't just on the swim team. He also did theater. And he was good. Really good.

One of my friends told me I had to go see the winter musical since she was in it, and if I didn't show up, she was gonna be mad. So I went. And Max was one of the main characters. I'm not gonna lie, I don't really remember the plot. This was an excuse to stare at Max.

After the play was over, I went out to say hi to my friend. She talked to me for about 2 seconds before going to talk to others. I sucked in a breath and walked over to Max.

He was talking to a friend, who motioned towards me. Max turned around, and looked surprised.

"Hey Max. You did really good!" I said. I could feel my face getting red, like it does when I'm nervous.

I remember what happened next in perfect clarity.

He smiled, and said, "Thanks Rosemary!"

Then he gave me a hug.

Now, I'm a tall girl. I'm 5'8". Most of the time, hugs are an awkward thing. But this one felt perfect. And it was too short.

Because I'm an idiot, I smiled and left. I didn't try to start a conversation. I just left.

I went home and decided that for real, I was going to apologize, and it was gonna happen soon. As in, tomorrow.

One of my friends had to have Max's number. I knew, and know, that when I apologize to him, it's not gonna be in person. I can barely talk to him in a normal conversation, let alone when I'm apologizing for something that I did that hurt him. I went around asking everyone if they had it. Of course I did it subtly. I'm not an idiot.

Finally, someone gave it to me. I panicked for a few seconds because I thought I would never get it, then I started typing.

I don't remember exactly what I wrote, but it went something like this.

"Hey Max, this is Rosemary. I just wanted to apologize for something that happened in 7th grade. Do you remember when I said you remind me of Clawhauser? I meant that you are funny, like he is. I didn't even think about how you would interpret it as me thinking you were fat. I never thought that, and I've wanted to apologize since Kiley told me. I'm sorry it took me so long."

I sent the message, and then waited.

A few hours later, I got this in response.

"Do you mean Max Cannon? I'm not Max."

Of course. Of course it would happen this way.

I panicked and sent off a message.

"Oh I'm so sorry. Please disregard this message."

They texted back.

"Did you get this number from Ryan?"

"Yeah..." I said.

"He got a new phone and I changed my number for Max's as a joke," they said.

"Oh. Then who is this?"

"I'm not saying."

"Now I'm really curious," I said.

"Nope. Lips are sealed. I can give you Max's real number though."

"Thank you. Please don't tell anyone about this. This is the thing I regret most and I would really hate to have it spread all over the school."

"Yeah no problem," they said.

"Are you sure I don't know you?"

"Nope. I'm a junior."

"I know a lot of juniors," I said.

"Not me."

That is the last time I have ever talked to that person. I still have no idea who they are. Some random Junior now knows something I would really prefer they don't know. I can't do anything about it though, so moving on.

I texted the new number the same thing as the last, and waited again.

Except this time, no one ever responded.

I had basically given up. I had done everything I could besides tracking Max down in person and saying sorry. I felt at peace, knowing I had done what I could. I knew that somehow, it would all work out for the best.

I fell into a rhythm. Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep, repeat. I knew what was going to happen every day, and I knew what to expect.

One day I saw Max in the local paper. He had won state swim! Go Max.

At first I worried that Max would come eat lunch at the pizza place I worked at, but after 6 months, I stopped worrying.

Until one day, he suddenly was there.

I started shaking. I couldn't do the simplest of jobs, let alone work register. I started making pizzas, like a good employee, but I couldn't breathe. I knew he wasn't there to talk to me. He was there with his whole big group of cronies, and they sat right next to where I was working.

Because of course.

I kept going, trying to do my job. I don't think I took a real breath until he left the restaurant. They never acknowledged my existence. It was like I was a stone wall. It's not like I was the bestest of friends with any of them, but I knew some of them! They could have at least said hi!

Needless to say, that encounter left a bad taste in my mouth.

After that, I thought I was safe. He had come, he didn't seem all that excited at the food, I was good. I was okay. He wouldn't be back. I wouldn't have to do that again.

A few weeks later, his whole friend group shows up again. But this time I caught eye contact with Max as he was waiting in line.

"Rosemary! How are you going?"

"I'm doing good."

"So you're just working?"

"Yep," I said.

I had to do work then, so the conversation was cut short. I was kinda glad. It's kinda awkward to shout across the restaurant.

They sat down right next to me again. I managed to get through the shaking, and even breathed a few times.

Finally they left.

I thought, surely this can't happen again.

They started coming in every week.

Last Wednesday I was just existing when he walked in the door again. My coworker couldn't take the register, so I had to take over. I rung up one man, then went to go get his sauce. Max was next in line. My coworker thankfully took over for me.

I felt brave though.

I made eye contact with Max.

"So you guys are just coming in every week now?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"We converted ya."

Then I smiled and walked away.

And died inside.

I know this is happening for a reason. It feels like something out of a soap opera. Nothing like this happens in real life. Except it is. And I don't know how to handle it.

I need to say sorry. And it has to happen before life pulls us apart for good.