I'm Still Your Girl

"I'm not your girl," I told Elio and left his villa but I couldn't stop thinking about him.

I was thinking about his smile. How his lips felt against my skin. I was smelling him in the air. I could picture how he would giggle on his own jokes. I was trying to focus on riding my cycle but I couldn't because I couldn't stop picturing him. At one point tears blurred my vision and tripped over a stone. My knee started to bleed but at least, I got back to my senses. Astonishingly that place seemed familiar. It was the way to Elio's spot that lead to shallow waters. I followed the way he taught me.

The water was cold, so it relieved my knee. I could still picture him, holding my hand and showing me around. The water that once touched him was touching my skin too. The air that he once breathed was in my body. Then it leads to the place where he would read books.

I sat there. The grass was pressed from his body. The tiny flowers were tickling me as Elio would have when they sang the songs of breeze. I laid down and turned my head to right as I would have if Elio were there. The grass was pressed at that. It meant he must have been there with someone else as well. It was Oliver. I stayed there and cried.

For days, I kept thinking about him but then I realized that what we had was more than a boy and a girl. We were friends and I must be there with him as a friend. I should be happy to make him happy and reduce his difficulties. Maybe I was still his girl but not in the sense that you think.