While I was at the beach last Saturday, I had a pretty good time. I swam a lot, and built sandcastles with Emma Rae, and watched Justin skimboard. All up until about twenty minutes before we left. This guy came and sat down near us. I ignored him, he ignored me, but I kept getting this feeling in my gut that this guy wasn't just any guy. This was Ryan, Ryan Andrew Mills. The boy who led me down the primrose path straight into self loathing and hate. Who stole every innocent ideal I used to have about love. Naturally, I was terrified. Couldn't breathe, scared stiff, terrified. But I wasn't about to say hi, not when I haven't seen him since 2007, and haven't spoken to him since 2008. It just wasn't happening. Initially, I prayed I was being crazy, but after waiting, and watching out of the corner of my eye, I was convinced. Honestly, it would have been easier if he would have gotten up and moved, or hell if he was there with his wife and kid, I could have handled that. But that sort of shock. It only makes you terrified, and desperate to get out, to run. I have no idea if he figured out that it was me, but he did sit there a while, and my mom and sister still look the same. It just sucks, so know that you've come so far, that you've grown so much, that you are nowhere near the person you used to be, and with just one glance you feel like it happened yesterday, and not two years ago. Honestly, I hope that I was just being paranoid, that I'll forget this encounter and that I won't see him for another two years. But I did move back, and it's pretty amazing that I haven't seen him since I have.
Sometimes, I wish August 29 would get here faster.