I sit on my couch, alone, starring at the TV flashing images before me. I see the images before me, but for some reason I can’t comprehend all the words that are coming out of the speakers.

I lie there, curled up on my red couch, my hand running along the edge, thinking of all the memories I ever had with this couch.

I remember when I was about six years old, my older sister and I would play gymnastics. She would pretend to be the coach and I would be in a leotard, ready to do my back flip on the couch, with her spotting me of course. I remember the time when my mom started yelling at me and my sister for breaking the couch with our gym skills, and putting a hole in the couch.

I remember the time when I invited over my best friend, Ashley, and we watched High School Musical 2, this being the first time for me. I remember sitting there, eating chips and watching the movie, and having her burst out in song every twelve seconds. I remember it so well, when the song with Ashley Tisdale and the song that started with an ‘H’ came on, and she could not stop laughing.

I remember watching Titanic with my other best friend, Abby, on my red couch. We both started bawling and could not stop at the sight of Leonardo Di Caprio freezing to death in the ice cold water. I remember being on the end of the couch, my eyes dropping asleep, and Abby would wake me and say, “You can’t fall asleep now! Go get soda! You’re not falling asleep.”

I would move my tired body off my red couch and grab a soda, and we would watch about three or four movies, and we both ended up falling asleep on the couch, not remembering the promise we made to stay up all night.

I remember the day I came home from play practice and sitting down on my red couch in the basement, I logged on Facebook, waiting for one particular person to come on. He did. His message popped up “hey”, it said. I found out the guy I liked me back. That red couch never failed me.

I remember coming home from the Mall that Thursday, May 27, 2010, with my new boyfriend, Christian Cole-Ridge*. We sat on my red couch and watched “Valentines Day”, this being his first time seeing the movie. I remember we settled in, and he looked at me in this way I can’t even describe. It was the best feeling in the world. He leaned in and he kissed me. I still think of that day, every time I sit on this couch,

I remember the day when I was up at 2 in the morning, and his old flame told me that she and him kissed when I was away. I started crying and then I called him, not able to move from the couch, and then he got on Facebook and told me everything and how sorry he was. I remember the last question I asked him was, “What did you do after you kissed her?” and his reply was, “I drove her home swearing my head off.” I remember staring at the same spot on the ceiling for nearly two hours crying my heart out and planning revenge, and falling through, but mostly wondering what I did that was so wrong. It was on that couch my heart bled and there that I fell asleep that night, hurt.

Now, I’m sitting on my red couch, all alone. No feelings inside me except emptiness. I logged on Facebook nearly an hour ago and found out the person I love is with someone else. I stare at the TV again, realizing the episode is over, but still I don’t want to move. I don’t want to let go.

I never knew a piece of furniture could mean so much to me, but it is now I realized how much it has been through with me. I made memories with friends, I watched movies smiling when the main characters would kiss, and cry when the dog died, or the girl and the guy never make it in the end, and it was here on this couch that I watched someone like me, love me, leave me, and forget me.

***Name has been changed