Raindrops streamed down my face, mixing with the tears I could no longer repress. I tipped my face up and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He’s not even here yet, I thought. Just breath, you can do this. Feeling like my chest was compressing around my heart, I lowered my head and turned to face the crowd I’d been ignoring seconds earlier. And sure enough, I could see the chestnut curls I so loved. The cross country meet was supposed to have great weather, not pouring rain cold enough to make me shiver under my varsity jacket. I glanced at him and looked quickly away, knowing that pain was flashing across my face at the very knowledge of his presence. I walked right by his team’s tent, avoiding looking at the red and white uniforms beneath it. I turned my back to it and tried to listen as my own team chattered excitedly about how pumped they were. And when the guys’ teams moved to the start line, I looked away. The gun went off, and I started running towards the two mile mark, hoping to beat them there. I waiting in the rain as he passed, breathing his name as the tears continued to fall. I spun and pushed my injured leg to let me reach the finish before him. I made it in time to see him cross the line over twenty seconds off pace. I watched him stalk away from the line, glaring at the crowd around him in anger, as if they were the reason he felt like he had failed. I waited nearly twenty minutes before gathering the courage to talk to him, then walked straight to his tent and asked if I could speak with him. When he nodded, I asked why he hadn’t contacted me in almost a month. He looked at me with deep brown eyes that used to captivate me, now blank staring glass. His lip twitched in an unconscious sign of frustration and he said, “I’ve been busy.” And then he turned away, leaving me alone in the rain with a broken heart. That was the last time I saw him.