That is what he told me he was for me.

I’m sitting here at my best friends apartment in a over-sized hoodie & leggings…. just having gotten out of a vanilla-lavender scented bath. Sipping on a little red wine…& that’s when it hit me.

that’s when it hit me

Me & the last guy I fell in love with, haven’t lived in the same state for over a year now.

We have since then exchanged several emails. Because he likes to see if I’m still going after my dreams. He was that kind of guy. Even though we’re separated due to different careers, 900 some miles away, he still cares. Then all of a sudden, he changed his number. He claimed someone stole his phone. But at the time of him emailing me his new one to tell me this… it had been two weeks & I moved on.

I still saved his new number in my phone. I felt cherished when he went through a maze of social media to make sure I received his email. The thought of still having a piece of him in my phone– (lifeline) felt safe. It felt that he was still at the tip of my fingers & nothing changed. & maybe that’s part of the problem.

I would scroll through my phone & even the threads of his texts I had yet to delete. Little messages that still had the power to give me butterflies & stir my heart in ways I have yet been able to explain. Pieces of encouragement. Stern “slaps” on the wrist when I was being selfish & ridiculous, he knew how to keep me in line in the most caring ways.

& you can’t forget the ones that said, “Morning babe, I know you’re probably still asleep… but I’m on my way to work & you’re who I want to talk to as I listen to this segment on NPR. You get me.”

These are the things that pulled me into the crevices of his heart & didn’t let me go. They sucker-punched any bit of self control I had & make me swoon for this man day after day.

Time was moving, fast. & we couldn’t really stop was was about to happen. He was been flown out of town on weekend trips a lot (thanks to his agent) & I got used to missing him. He was going after his dreams, who was I to stop them?

One night, after weeks apart–we decided to meet up. Because that’s what you do, when you miss someone. You show up in their life & you make it known. I was really nervous. It was strange. We had both been present in each others lives, consistently, for 8 months now (but it felt like years). Why was I nervous? This is the same guy I’d sing in hotel lobbies with, or stay up till the sun came up talking about God, the ridiculousness of Martial Law & Socrates. Not a subject when unnoticed by us. Why now?

I think in my heart of hearts, I knew the things between us were shifting & in order to survive we had to find new ground to stand on. 

As I walked into this sports bar lined with fully-bearded old men & women in skin tight denim, I felt more displaced then I hoped. At least it was easy to spot the man I was looking for–who, if you’re wondering… dresses like a Banana Republic model. Because, he’s done that. So it was the exact opposite of looking for Where’s Waldo.,

As my eyes are gazing around, I see him.

My heart jumps & my throat catches it.

I give him a bear hug.

And as I sit, my favorite drink sits in front of me (as he ordered it minutes before.)

I’m more nervous now. He must know I need a little liquid buffer for this next part.

We begin talking & it feels like small talk. I absolutely loathe small talk. I won’t do it with a stranger, let alone with the love of my life.

He throws back two shots & I just sit there, frozen.

He seems a little more relaxed. We go outside to the patio–as everyone is inside & he wants a more “intimate” setting. His words, not mine.

As we sit down, he starts to as the heavy questions & no I don’t mean what I see when I step on the scale.

You know those scenes in movies where you see the actor talking as it zooms out & the other is listening, but their voice is almost muffled underwater? You want to listen, but you’re in a state of shock?

Yep. That was me. & I didn’t know why.

He had been asking me about my dreams more in depth. About the people I associate with. About those who I room with, because really–were cohabitating. & you can’t just do that with anyone.

So I answered.
& as I did,

I asked what he really wanted to know.

I needed him to just get right to it.

He told me, “Don’t go back home to Chicago.”

(we had been talking about this if he ever moved away from where we were.)

“What?? Why?” I replied with.

“Just promise me, whatever you do.. don’t go back to Chicago. You have so much potential. I think the World of you & if you go back home… you’re going to let yourself die. The passion I see in your eyes everyday for the World, it will die.”

………awkward silence.

“Come with me to California.”

WHOA. there it was.

That’s what he wanted.

& I think I stared at him, silently for about 10 minutes.

I wanted to dive deep into his soul & see if he mean’t it.

..he did.

He then rambled on about how he is the epitome of everything I’ll ever want or need in a guy.

That he was the most intelligent I’ve come across (he is).

That I’ve never connected with anyone on the level I did with him (right again).

That he’s the most handsome I’ve been with (Well yeah, he is a model).

I told him he was wrong. I did’t like when he challenged me. He did this, A LOT. We did this a lot. I’m pretty sure 95% of who him & I were together was just seeing who could push the next boundary. We loved an intellectual challenge. We loved an artistic one. We loved getting up on stage at open mics & just seeing who would get more applause. I couldn’t tell you if this was a healthy way to be. It wasn’t a competitive nature, but almost a phase of us evolving as humans.

Okay, so after that you may think I’m weird. I am. a little.

Back to the bar scene.

“I can’t go.”

“You cant?” He said.

“I won’t.” My response.

I blabbered on a few things about how it sounded like the perfect happily ever after & a couple years back I would have jumped at the opportunity. I told him that the memories we could make on adventures sounds like what I day dream about. But I won’t. I told him we didn’t know each other long enough (7 months). I refused to uproot my life for a man. I can’t leave behind everything I’ve ever worked or or wanted for love.

I went back to Chicago. I went home.

I think about him everyday.

….I think about him everyday.

I’m sitting here thinking to myself & I wonder if I’ll ever stop reliving the moments of him & I together.

It scares me.

Because now we’re coming up on a lengthy amount of time we haven’t been around each other & he still won’t leave my heart or my mind.

There was was point I thought he was only meant to teach me a couple things & that would be it.

But I don’t know anymore.

& maybe I never will.

& some day I may be okay with it.

Until then…