The Love Encounter

“It was nice to see you again,” I say, with my hands folded in my pocket, nervously waiting for something to happen. It’s been six months, and I’m still trying to put the puzzle pieces together to reveal one clear picture of what went wrong. I’d like to say it was the distance that put a wedge between us, as we both drove off in two separate directions with the promise of staying in touch. Standing here now, both back for just a few weeks, it’s clear to see that some promises are created just to be broken.

“Yes, of course. Goodnight,” he says, lingering just for a few more seconds as time stands still. We both stand still, looking at each other and looking away then looking back. He waits for something; for me to say something, for him to say something. We are both paralyzed, by the cold night and by the unsaid words that hadn’t dared to leave our lips, even now. I tried to catch his eyes once more, but he had already walked away.

I stand there in my driveway, looking at my distorted reflection through the melted ice on the gravel road. He slams his door, and the ignition is turned on. He stays for a few seconds and then goes. I look up as he drives away, the smoke following him as he disappears out of view. The different alternatives I had created in mind and out of all of them, this was the most disappointing. I had been foolish to think that reality would ever be better than the perfect images I had created in mind. I couldn’t help but think that it had been my fault, building myself up only to lead myself into a disappointing conclusion.

Once I had changed into my pajamas, I lied in bed until two in the morning. My eyelids felt heavy, but my mind felt alive. Like I had struck a match and ignited an idea, going down this rabbit hole of what if’s. None of them could change the truth, but it felt nice to even try. As I created even more impossible scenarios, it somehow only created more doubt and reassurance. If I didn’t have the power to change the past, I had the power to change the future. I would not intervene with how things are supposed to turn out, but I just want to make sure that I’ve gone through every single door before choosing to stay in one room.

I grabbed my phone and looked for his number. I had to scroll just for a few seconds to finally spot his name in my contacts, clicking on the message button. I didn’t know what to say and I knew that I would regret this in the morning but if I didn’t do it now, when would I? If right now wasn’t the time, then when was the perfect time? If I were to look for the perfect time or wait for it, then I would never do anything. The worst thing that could happen is that he says he no longer feels the same and then it would create closure to this messy chapter I thought I had finished writing a long time ago.

I text him if he is still up, and he responds immediately. The ding ding startles me and I almost drop my phone. As I look at my screen, I still don’t know what to say. I hadn’t gotten this far, but I knew how I felt and what I wanted. If I were to write to him everything then I’m afraid that he would have no choice but to block me and get a restraining order. So, instead, I ask him if we can meet up. Right now? he texts back and my fingers circle the keyboard only to send a yes in response.

He tells me that we can meet up at the park, which is only a few minutes away, walking. So I grab my coat and my phone and close the front door gently as to not wake my parents up. As I make my way over to the park, my hands are shaking and my heart is jumping out of my chest. I don’t know what I’ll say, and I don’t know what I‘ll do, but I just know that I can no longer bottle up words that are meant to be free.

As I near the park, I can see he is already sitting on a swing. He is looking up, wearing a black coat and looks quite tired. A sense of guilt rushes over me because I acted to crazy and literally who asks someone to meet up at a park…at two am in the morning. But also, why was he awake? Had he thinks the same thing as I? I rub my eyes, scaring the thought away and mentally preparing myself for the worst.

I walk over to the swing and sit, not daring to look him in the eyes even though his gaze is burning right through me. I let out a breath, clear my throat, and finally look at him. His brown eyes are lit by the moonlight, his face is shaded by the clouds. We both stare again, but this time we do not break it. It feels like a staring contest except we’re both blinking really quickly and not looking away.

“So…”

“So…” he whispers, looking away.

I dig my shoes into the snow, then dig them out. My hands are still shaking, but I try to hide them by putting them in my coat’s pockets.

“On a scale of one to thirteen, how was your Christmas?” I say, trying to ease into the subject I want to talk about but am too scared to bring up.

“Well, I’m glad our families decided to do it together this year. It’s a thirteen out of thirteen, especially having you around.” Our. You.

      “I agree, we should do it more often…” my words trail off, as he lets out a sigh and closes his eyes.

      “Why am I here?” He finally says, looking directly at me.

      “Well, you said we could meet up at the park, so I don’t know. I should ask you the same thing.”

      “Pen, you know what I mean.” I must say that I never really liked it when my parents called me Pen but hearing him say it kind of makes me want to keep it around a little while longer. I usually just go by my first name Penelope, but my closest friends call me Pen, which is just something that’s stuck even if I’d rather not. But him saying it, having him here, adds a sense of happiness. Even if there thousands of alternatives to this moment that are imprinted in my mind, there is only one that will mean something in the end.

      “I don’t think there is any way to say this, but why did you stop responding? Why did you give up on us?”

      The words come out shakier than I would’ve liked. They also came out very quiet, almost as if they were a secret that I was meant to keep. Maybe I should have kept the secret, letting it rot inside my mind until I had no other choice but to throw it out. But I had learned as I had gotten older that sometimes the only way through is not around it or above it, it’s going through it. No matter how many times I had built a life of false ideas, it never did matter if it wasn’t real.

      “I didn’t mean to lose contact with you. It just got a little too busy and I found me having less and less time for my personal life. I had to focus on the things that matter,”

      “So I don’t matter? What we had, or almost had, doesn’t matter to you?” I say, almost choking on my own words. The tears threaten to leave and before I know it they are burning my cheek. I look away, embarrassed. This had been a huge mistake and I knew it now because I hadn’t been a priority then, and I wasn’t a priority now.

      “That’s not what I meant,” he whispers.

      “Then what did you mean, Aron?”

      “I had always wanted you. Nothing else mattered when it came to be with you. You never took me seriously, you always wanted something but were too scared to take it. You want to go ahead and blame me then fine but I’m not the one who hasn’t been all in. You are,” he almost yells, tears streaming down his face as well. He looks away, and I try to catch my breath, ready for the words to pour out of my mouth. There is no going back now, and I have to let it out.

      “You were always a priority for me. Always. I know that I could have been there more but you must understand that I am not easily swayed. I do not easily open myself up to someone, especially someone who I love. I was scared that I would somehow mess it up and that it would be broken beyond repair. I wanted to get it right but I didn’t know-how. I’m sorry that I put this on you when I was the one to blame as well. But you didn’t just have to leave me and never call me back, or respond to my texts.”

      “I’m sorry, too. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know where to go from this.”

      “How about, we start as friends again?” I say, and we both look up. He slowly smiles and then mine follows as we look away, and he reaches for my hand and we stay there, under the moonlight and away from reality. We talk about everything and anything, filling in the blanks and starting a new chapter with way more pages than the last one.