The Dance

She eyed the name, mouse hovering, ready to click. She wanted to say hello. To ask about his day, to hear of his exploits. She wanted him to ask about her day so she could tell him everything she had seen.

She never knew which version of him she was going to get, though. Some days, he was a ball of energy and spunk. He could make her laugh so hard she cried. His humor and wit were mesmerizing to her. They bantered like an old couple and flirted via mild insults, like little kids. Other days, his depression seeped through the text. His pain, palpable. Each response took an eternity and added little to the conversation. Honestly, she didn’t care which version she got. She just hated that he could be suffering so much. She would happily talk to any manifestation of him. Any response was contact and she thrived on it. Plus, she figured, having someone show interest and compassion was important on the bad days.

She had found an equal, she felt. Someone who understood her sense of humor and could challenge her intelligence, making her truly consider the world around her. She loved the intricate tango that played out when they talked. The give and take of their discussions. The well-intentioned insults that their mutual sense of humor lent itself to so well.

Yes, she had found someone who got her in a way no one had in years. Unfortunately, she found him at a time when he was only himself some of the time. There was nothing she could do but continue to be there. To keep the lines of communication open. To wait for him to return to himself full-time. And to hope that some day he would notice that she was there for him. Even if nothing ever happened, she loved that he considered her a friend – someone to confide in. That consolation did not stop her from hoping that the future held more for them. After all, it wasn’t everyday that you met someone who could make you laugh and think in the way he did. Someone who could challenge your beliefs in a way that was more inspirational than insulting. In a few short months, she had become quite attached to their conversations, whether upbeat or more cynical.

Her mouse rested on his name as she contemplated what to do. She sat and stared, trying to make up her mind. She wanted to say hello, if only for selfish reasons. She had become reliant on his presence in her life. She wanted him there on the good and bad days. But this wasn’t just about her, and sometimes she thought she might be trying just a little bit too hard. She moved the mouse away, closed the window, and turned back to her notes. Maybe she would say hello later. Or maybe not. She had just started to focus on her work again when she heard a familiar click. She glanced up and grinned. The text box that held an integral part of her world had appeared. ‘Hello’ it said. ‘Hello, yourself’, she replied. And so their dance began again.


12:00am  19.8.10

His face

She knew the face in front of her. She’d seen it thousands of times before. Held it, caressed it, stared longingly into its eyes. For several years, she had seen it only in dreams, sure that would be the only way she’d see him again. The man who stood before her was no stranger.
“Nicole? Is that you?”
“Do I know you?”
Of course she did! He was her first real crush. Her first love. Her first lover. She was shocked to see him, but her expression did not betray her.
“It’s me. Jake?”
“Oh? Jake…I think my roommate in college dated a Jake. But he was blonde. Did you go to Michigan?”
His face was less able to withhold emotion. He appeared startled and hurt.
“No. Jake. From high school? Jake Larson. We…dated?”
Dated. What a simple, incomplete way to put it. Everything out of his mouth sounded like a question. Her confusion had shaken him at his core. He had wondered what would happen if he saw her again. Uncountable scenarios had run through his head. This was not one of them.
“Oh, right! Jake Larson. Nice to see you, I hope all is well, but I really must be going.”
She turned and walked away. She wanted more than anything to turn around, but her pride made her continue on. Her memories and dreams had been enough to remind her of their love long lost. His matured face would haunt her for months to come.


18.1.10  4:35am

Already gone.

“Will you wait?” His eyes, pleading for my answer, shone gold in the bright July sun.

“Of course I will.” I smiled my most sincere smile and stood on my toes to kiss his cheek. I don’t know why I said it. I knew it was a lie before it left my lips. Maybe I wanted it to be true – to believe I was the kind of person who could wait for him – or maybe I didn’t want to hurt him anymore than leaving already would. Regardless of the reason, I did lie. I had no intent to become one of those women, sitting at home, waiting for a phone call and dreading a knock on the door. It didn’t make sense. Why should my life be put on hold because he was leaving for a while? His life was continuing on, and so would mine. We’d have to see who he had become when he came home.

I must’ve been quiet for too long; he subtly cleared his throat to bring me back to reality. He knew better than to ask where I had disappeared to. I’d like to think that he understood that he wouldn’t like the thoughts going through my mind. Or maybe he thought he knew me well enough that he didn’t need to ask.

I looked into his eyes with my best longing stare, kissed him fully, and then let his arms envelop me as I whispered, “You’ve got to go.” He gave me one last squeeze, resting his cheek on my head, and then let me go.

He looked heartbroken as he walked away from me. All I felt was relief. I loved him, yes, but that didn’t seem like enough. Not enough to sit around for months or years. He’d move on. Probably before he even got home. I’m just getting a head-start on the moving – hypothetically, of course. It’s not like I had a guy or three lined up at home. I was just being honest about what would inevitably happen in the future.

He was on the plane, probably trying to look excited about this new beginning, but internally terrified. I turned and walked away before he took off. Why watch the plane leave when, to me, he was already gone?


1:03pm  25.6.09