Because I Do
It didn’t dawn on me until I laid down an hour ago. I had distracted myself all day but deep in the pit of my stomach, I knew something was off. I shrugged it off though and I laughed and danced around, happy as a bird in the spring. But then I laid down to sleep and that notification went off…
A year ago, you were drunk at your friend’s birthday party with your friends but you texted me the entire time. I knew this was my last chance to get you to admit my feelings. Months had gone by of little smiles and “excuse me if I’m out of line” compliments and I knew how you felt but I had to hear it from you first. So I stayed up until the late hours turned to the early hours before you finally caved. “I like you.”
God those words, simple as they seem, they read like a song in my mind and I sent you a snap back—“I like you too.” But then you disappeared. I thought, “Oh no, what if he didn’t mean it?” For twenty minutes I waited nervously until finally you picked it back up. You took ten more minutes to say “sorry, I panicked and threw my phone across the room.” And that was that—seven months and it was finally out in the air.
And the next night you said “I know you’re asleep but I’m too afraid to say it when you’re awake. But I love you and I have for a while now.” And I was surprised but something compelled me and I found myself speaking before I could stop myself… “I love you too.” I had startled you but you seemed happy. So happy in fact, you seemed like you were about to cry.
We were both a little awkward and we had both been hurt in the past by people we trusted. We just got each other and talking to you was like talking to an old friend. And you moved back home and even tho I was going to miss you, I knew you needed to get far away from the things haunting you. We kept in touch and slowly, we fell in love. Scars, bruises, traumas, and everything.
We had the best kind of love. We were best friends. How many people can say they’re in love with their best friend? How many people are lucky enough to have the kind of love we had? It was scary. It was exciting. It was wild. It was calming. It was surreal. It was fairy-tale.
And that first weekend my roommates went home and you drove two hours to spend the weekend together and it was scary. We hadn’t seen each other in months. That weekend will always be my favorite of all the weekends that we had spent together.
We watched TV and played PlayStation where you tried to teach me how to play Witcher III and I was terrible but we had fun anyway. It was hard to let it end. I had promised to give you a ride home but we had waited too long and the tornado a few days earlier had left the unlit country roads too dark to maneuver. We had our first fight that night. We couldn’t stay in my apartment because I knew my roommate would have had a field day. She wouldn’t have understood and you were too special to let her spoil what we had.
After we ate McDonald’s in the parking lot behind the art building, we drove back to the apartment and you said you’d sleep in the car. I was so angry. Then I went back inside and grabbed two blankets and two pillows and I said, “Then I guess we’re both sleeping in this car.” You thought I was just being nice at first but I smiled and said, “No, I’ve just always wanted to sleep under the stars.”
A few months before, there had been a lunar eclipse and I sat out in my car under the stars. You were texting me like always and I laid in that car maybe an hour before you made me go to bed. I remember wishing you could sit under the stars with me. Now, we actually had the chance.
It wasn’t easy… and it certainly wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement. My tiny Honda Civic wasn’t meant to be a bedroom for a six foot seven man and a girl five foot six. But we made it work and we spent hours talking. I fell asleep and when a cop showed up I woke up and started talking loudly so you held me close and whispered shhhhh. You told me later you were trying so hard not to laugh.
When morning came, I drove you back home and two hours went by so quickly. We talked the whole way and after I dropped you off and kissed you good-bye, you called me and talked to me until the cell signal was lost. I made it back in time for work and I was tired but it was worth it.
So how could we go from that to now? 72 days and everything is upside down and inside out. But why? How did a love so strong and beautiful die?
The last time I saw you, we had gone to the movies. I had gone back to pack the last of my things from my apartment at the end of July and that weekend I drove up to see you. We ate McDonald’s and went to see the new Spider-Man movie. We cuddled on the sofa and as the end came near I held tighter not wanting to let go. You promised me we’d see each other again. I had said “What if something happens?” You just hugged me and brushed away my tears and said “Nothing could change our love.” I saw you hold back tears as I backed out and I started to cry myself once I drove away. That was my last memory we had together.
Nothing was the same after that. The cracks turned to full blown fractures and our ship was flooding with doubt and negativity. Sometimes we’d have a good day but they became less frequent. We didn’t try to fix it. We just… gave up. What kind of love gives up?
A fool’s dream I guess.
By that time, I was working at a big-girl job in the city. I had an apartment and I thought this was success. I had graduated and gotten an apartment and a job, I mean that’s the dream, isn’t it? So why was I crying on the floor every night until I couldn’t breathe? Why did it hurt so bad? The dark demons that had haunted me before we met had returned. Friends tried to be there for me but they didn’t know what to say. What do you do when someone you care about says they want to die?
On the surface I had it all—the job, the apartment, the money. But I was miserable. At my job, no one talked to me and I was too awkward when I tried to make conversation. The apartment was beautiful but lonely. My neighbors kept to themselves. That’s the age we live in. The money it was great but I didn’t spend it. In three months I had only been to the grocery store three times and I was living off Chick-fil-a at work for one meal every day. I lost weight to where I was sick. I was depressed. I would leave for work five minutes before I was supposed to be there, many days wearing the sweats I had slept in on the sofa the night before. I wasn’t eating and after work, I’d lay in bed or on the sofa watching videos until the reality would hit at night while the rest of the world slept. I couldn’t sleep because you were in all of my dreams. Finally, I snapped.
I was at work trying to hold back tired tears when you texted me. A simple “Hey” sent my heart flying. I ran out to the elevator lobby to respond. You were surprised I responded and I said “of course I’m going to respond. Are you okay?” That started a conversation I desperately needed. You were worried because of the stuff I had been posting on Snapchat. I told you I was just going through some stuff and I was vague. You tried to be there for me but there was a coldness. We talked some for a few weeks and it wasn’t always easy. I knew you were still hurting and I just wanted to make it better. I knew the only way was to let go. I tried. I really tried to let you go. And eventually, you asked “What do you want from me?” I couldn’t stop myself from crying at those words. What I wanted? I wanted to tell you how I fucked up. I ran away. I got scared and I ran because you were struggling to let me in. But I told him the truth… I had told him I was suicidal and had sat in the bathtub for two hours wishing I had the will power to just sink into the water but how I couldn’t get past his face reacting to what I had done. I told him the guilt of all the pain I had caused him was killing me on top of all the other problems I was struggling to cope with. For the first time in three months, you showed a bit of warmth. You told me that yes you were still hurting but that you’d be okay with time. You said I didn’t need to kill myself because I was too bright and special to leave like that. You told me how I deserved to be happy.
For a while I felt better after that. I thought I had finally gained some closure but I was wrong. It made me mad because I realized I was happy with you. I was a better version of myself with you. When we were together, I didn’t cry myself to sleep for a year. I had spent 22 years crying myself to sleep and you had changed that. And I brought you some good. I gave you the ability to have faith and trust in someone. I gave you hope that something real and true really can and does exist. Then, something like a shadow or a dark cloud blurred our vision and we lost our way and lost each other. Now there’s no hope to going back to the way things are.
So now, I finish this story two hours later after typing it on my phone on what should have been our first anniversary. You had promised me a year ago that you were going to propose to me and we were going to get married. Then something changed and I find myself not wanting those things anymore. I go on dates but none of them click like we clicked. None of them have the soul and heart you do. I don’t want kids if I can’t bring them home in your arms. You always told me you would have been three times the father your dad had been. We were supposed to do those things together. But now, I see myself forcing myself to be alone because I gave up on something people live a whole lifetime without. Why do I deserve happiness? There’s never going to be a happiness like the one I had with you. And now with the world ending, I ask, would you come over? To let me hold you? To let me say that I love you even after all this time? Because I do.
