They say you can't go "home" again, but that's exactly where she's headed.

She smoothes the skirt of her dress, grips the edge of her seat.  As they drive away one thought fills her mind.

A wedding is not a prom.

It's not, even if it feels like it.  It's not, even if you're wearing a fancy dress.  Even if the flowers are the same.  Even if he asks you to dance, holds you close and makes you feel like you're the only girl in the room.

It's not the same.

She knows why she's here, but she's not sure she should be.  It seems she's become the opposite of everything she'd hoped she'd be. And that's why she left in the first place.

But right now, she doesn't care much.  Right now, she can see him smiling in the seat next to her.  And she knows that smile.

This isn't what you want.  What are you doing?

You left this all behind.  Why are you here?

You know you want something else.  What are you waiting for?

Tonight there's more to consider.  There's a voice in her head, one that she thought she'd finally quieted.  It comes back, not in a whisper but a roar.

He seems to want you. 

He doesn’t.   

He seems to remember. 

He doesn't.

Maybe it'll be different this time.  Maybe…

When he stops the car her stomach is in knots.  It reminds her again that it's not like a prom.  This time she knows what's coming next.  His eyes meet hers.  She knows that look. 

As she opens the door and steps onto the sidewalk she can almost hear another slamming shut - locks clicking, bolts sliding into place.  Even as she takes his hand and steps forward she can feel herself sliding backwards. 

She holds his hand tighter, as if he can save her.  Somehow, tonight she's nearly convinced herself that he can.

She wonders how it had all changed so quickly.  She really had been fine.  It hadn't been easy but she had been dealing.  Though it was surreal to see her own wedding play out before her eyes it was really okay.

But then he'd teased her, he'd smiled that smile and as she stood beside him she thought maybe. It was the closest they'd come to where they'd been since he'd been back and she tried to hold on to that feeling.   

She'd sat there, watching him and tried to figure out exactly when her chance had slipped away.  She didn't want to believe there had only been that one chance, that tiny sliver of opportunity. 

Life is about choices and even though she had been sure in the end she'd made the right one it was becoming more and more obvious that it was simply too little, too late.

So now, she's here.  Back where she started.  It's oddly familiar and foreign all at once.

Arms close around her, but they're not the right arms.   Lips seek hers but they're not the right lips.  Right now, in this moment she doesn't care.  It's been so long and he's been so distant and more than anything right now she simply wants to feel wanted.

They don't really speak, which isn't news to her.  He's never been one to talk much.  It was part of the problem, part of why she knows she'll be sorry.  But she can't think about that now.  She's come to find that thinking is overrated.  Thinking things through has gotten her no where but alone. 

In this moment, she chooses to forget how it used to be.  In this moment, she's seventeen again.   In this moment, she gives in to the memory and goes back to the time when her life was filled with possibilities instead of doubts. 

In this moment, it's not perfect but somehow it's enough.