SO much has changed since my last entry. I've been away from writing for so long and I've had so many new life experiences. Twenty and Twenty-one brought with it a sense of extreme happiness; I had the world by the balls (or I certainly felt like it). I was sailing and building my skills in my career. I was confident that I had everything under control. Life seemed so in place- I had a sense of direction that was solid. I even found myself in a relationship that seemed too good to be true. I couldn't believe it, how could I be so lucky to have everything falling into place? Why did I deserve to be so happy?
"If something feels too good to be true it probably is."
The hardest part of growing up has never been the increased responsibility and autonomy over my existence, but the challenges that come with learning that not everyone in this world is who they seem. Sometimes, it is those that we hold closest and trust the most that hurt us the most.
She was amazing, and I felt like she was out of my league from the first moment I met her. I knew her from around campus, but she was a year ahead of me and we didn't run in the same circles. We met at a party, and things just kind of went naturally from there. She felt right. It seemed like everyone approved of us and wanted us to work out.
We spent many fall nights together. One night early on, we lay out on her porch and looked up at the stars pointing out constellations (with a beer). We talked, and talked, and talked until it was so late that I started to fall asleep. We spent many evenings like this; she was becoming not only my interest but my closest friend.
She understood me.
Snow came and covered the little town. We exchanged gifts. It felt more right. Her friends accepted me and gradually became my friends. It felt like we were beginning to be a family like I gained the approval of her brothers. She seemed to shine whenever I saw her, her eyes sparkling and the beauty mark on her face scrunching when she smiled back.
I remember the first time I said the words to her. It was a few months after Christmas and we actually had a fight. "I don't understand all these rules!" Lent was here and I was trying my hardest to be observant. There was obviously some tension and it came to a head. We came back from sushi (the stem of her tire broke on the way there, we changed the tire in the gas station parking lot with a van full of drunk people) and she was acting funny. I asked her about it, and she became upset.
I felt horrible. I wasn't as open as I should have been, and I told her why I was doing what I was doing. I told her that I needed to see if this was going to work within the lifestyle I wanted to live because I wanted it to last. I thought I was falling in love with her, and I told her that. What I felt was real and terrifying. How could I feel so strongly about someone else?
Why did I want better for her than myself?
When she heard this, she turned around. We were in my room and alone. Tears filled her eyes, her bottom lip quivered and her jaw shifts to one side - the way it always does. She threw her arms around me and began to cry, whispering 'I think I do too." We were both scared. What did this mean? Did I truly love this woman at that moment? Did she?
More time past and I think I began to fall harder with each day. The routine of waking up next to her, kissing her on the forehead as I got ready to leave the house. The completeness that came with a quiet night shared together. She was what I looked forward to after class. The feeling that welled up inside of me when we were together was one of intense warmth and happiness. We met each other's families, almost receiving their blessings with each occasion. Was this truly love?
As her graduation neared, so did the sense of anxiety around her. Was it the uncertainty her summer co-op, or was it the prospect of losing some of her close friends? What could it be? The co-op was a much simpler fix, an afternoon in the library and that was checked off. Her friends, well that was a part of this thing called youth. Easy enough for me to say, but college is not the real world. (It is insular. At no other time will I ever be surrounded by so many people my age. I will never share a house with four other twenty-somethings. I am about to be more lonely than I ever have been.) She graduated, but there were a few tears shed. She was coming back for a fifth year to complete her program, which at the time, was a good thing.
After a tearful goodbye, we went our separate ways for the summer. I knew communication would be sparse at best, but we made sincere promises. She gave me a journal to write to her while I was away. I wrote a lot to her that summer, every time I put pen to paper was like another night out on her porch under the stars. We'd go days without talking, but I trusted her completely and knew that she would never do anything to hurt me. My feelings grew over the summer; she was what I thought of during the early mornings spent on the bridge, the sun coming up over the horizon to announce the start of another day.
This last training cruise was testy at times and I was challenged by a lot of different angles. There really is no excuse or explanation why I acted the way that I did, but I was pretty terrible to some of my closest friends here at school. Family life at home was trying as well, a sickness in the family made for a trying summer. It was just so much from so many different things, I guess I couldn't keep a handle on it all. The one thing that helped, though, was the ability to write to her through the journal that she gave me. It was my space to vent, to be completely honest. I worked through a lot of things in those pages.
Eventually, things got better onboard. Friendships mended over sincere communication, even if it made me an asshole. The trip ended well and everyone got along after a few bumps.
All I wanted was to see her after the trip. She was sailing down in Martha's Vinyard and I thought everything was well. I couldn't have been more wrong. When I asked when I could come down, he deflected the question, she was too far behind on her project. This continued for a month, yet I held on to the idea of her. I felt like I could hold out forever if that's what it took.
I'd wait for the girl with flowers in her hair.
And then I stopped sleeping. You didn't call me on my birthday, you said you lost your phone. I understood in the way that a doormat understands as you wipe the mud off your boots before entering a home. I would see pictures of you online and you looked different; something in your eyes said that you were not mine anymore.
When we got back to school, you deflected me again. All I had wanted was to see you. For months I dreamed of spending time with you; I missed the woman that I loved. After finally pinning you down, we got some food at the bar. Oddly enough, you wanted to talk to the tall-guy who just came back after a year off more than you wanted to talk to me. It's ironic, isn't it?
But I was blind; I looked at you across the table. This was the one I would sail across an ocean for. The one that I would wait months for. The one that I wanted.
The next day you avoided me. That night you dropped the bomb on me.
"I don't love you."
I still have dreams about that interaction. The way you looked at me, with changed eyes, rocked my world.
I wish I could say that the worst of it, but as the truth began to surface I realized that what I thought I had was a lie. Nothing was as it seemed this summer; you had moved past me long before you told me your true feelings. There were other guys; how could you do that to me?
I trusted you completely, but you decided to slip away. I thought I knew you, but I was so wrong.
I knew who you were, and I loved who you were. What I felt was real and it nearly destroyed me to have it all come crashing down. The facade that was built up over the year caught fire as you stood on the front lawn, watching me roast.
You became so cold, so incredibly distant. You moved on and replaced me after a few weeks; was all that you said about your independence bullshit?
Who the hell are you? Is this who you really want to be?
I should despise you. I should hate you for flicking the switch off and seemingly not caring about the repercussions. You carried on as if nothing was wrong, and now you moved on to the same tall-guy you flirted with at the bar while we saw each other for the first time in so long. How could you be so cruel?
And yet, here I am. Spending my Thanksgiving studying for my exam and writing about my senior year of college. What should be a great time has literally been the most miserable few months of my existence (I laughed as I wrote that sentence). My family asked about you over the table, apparently the news never really got out to them. I just said that it didn't work out, they patted me on the back and cast down their wisdom on breakups. Everyone seemed to have the same message. "You've got your life ahead of you, be happy dammit!" I smiled, yeah you're right.
I miss her though. I miss you, and but not in the same way that I did. I miss the idea of you, not who you have become. Wheverever happened to you, I am sorry. I'm sorry I acted the way that I did. The hurt that I felt was misplaced and misdirected.
I hope to talk to you again, to maybe get some answers or to see where you are at. When I see you on campus now I don't say anything, as you told me to. I am doing exactly what you said to do in the note you gave me. God, I regret so much of that weekend.
I don't know what I'm chasing and I'll probably never know. The girl that I knew is gone, but there is someone that looks a lot like her (and reminds me of the cannonball you shot through my chest). I know I mean nothing to you now, even though I thought I did.
Will the old you ever come back?
It'll never be the same, but
I miss you.
I don't think of anyone else.
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