I Move On, I Move Away, You Beg Me to Stay

I remember the feeling of his hand in mine. I feel it even as I drive away with a dry face. There are no tears left to cry. I’m happy. He is not. He wanted me to stay, but after tonight, he knows there is no possibility of that happening. 

There has never been a single thing keeping me from living this dream. I was sure I’d be accepted into the program when I applied last year. There was some tough competition, but I knew I had to be one of the top candidates. I had everything they wanted in a graduate student, and now I get to live out this dream I’ve been working towards since high school. Even he couldn’t convince me to give this up. 

I cried when I got the acceptance letter, and when I told him I was moving to the other side of the world, and last night into my pillow when I made the final decision that I had to tell him today I am leaving everything behind, including him. 

He is walking back into his apartment right now. After watching me get into my car and drive away without shedding even one tear, while he was fighting not to shed any as I spoke what must be heartbreaking words to hear. He is calling his sister and telling her about everything. He is planning to take off work tomorrow or telling his boss he will be late. He is downloading a dating app to rebound after losing the woman he loves. 

I am driving into the life I’ve wanted for years now. I am fine. He is not. I am willing. He is not. I work hard. He does not. I am independent. He is not. I am trying to push away the memory of us kissing for the last time and me pushing him away, because I went there to break up with him, not to be shown a reason I should stay. I shouldn’t stay. He is hanging on to every last word and every last look he had of me before I left him standing in the parking lot of his apartment complex. 

When I pull into my driveway I see three extra cars and recognize them right away. My mom and dad and my brother and sister are here. I assume Sam invited them to our house to give me some kind of going away party. I told my family I am leaving, but told only Sam that I am leaving tomorrow. I got rid of many of my belongings and packed up everything I plan to take with me. The kind woman who bought my car is coming to pick it up tomorrow before I leave and give me the other half of the payment she owes me. 

My family and best friend are waiting inside, presumably with cake and snacks, and maybe some presents. I open the door and put on a smile that feels fake, but it is not fake. I should be smiling. I should be overwhelmed with joy and possibilities. They yell surprise and congratulations as I enter through the front door. I jump up and down with excitement. They expected me not to arrive alone, but I am alone today. No one, not even Sam, knows that I just ended things with Thomas. Sam has a feeling, when she looks at the door as it closes behind me and adverts her eyes back to me trying to act normal. Trying to act like I didn’t throw away my chance at a normal life here in Montana. 

Montana is a beautiful place. I’ve enjoyed exploring it my whole life. I’ve enjoyed finding new places to camp for the night that I can later show my friends and family. I’ve enjoyed meeting new people and animals along the way, and then never seeing them again after we shared a beautiful moment. I cherish the memory of renting a house together with Sam and finally living out our dream of living together in our twenties. Even though we both knew it would not last forever, the past couple of years have been so incredibly fun and wonderful. I enjoy calling this place my home. 

As I blow out the candles on the cake my over the top sister bought for me after considering the fact they would not see me on my birthday for at least the next two years, I notice Sam picking up a call on her phone in the corner of the living room. I notice the worry on her face as her hand moves to place pressure on her temple. I cut the first piece of cake for my family to enjoy while I go to her and make sure everything is okay. 

She hesitates to tell me she was on the phone with Thomas. She had a feeling I’d break up with him before I left, and thinks it's for the best. Thomas is not handling it well. He never did understand why I’d want to leave Montana and all the people I care about. I told him there is more to the world than Montana, and I want to see as much of it as I can. There are people on the other side of the world who I care about too, I just don’t know them yet. He didn’t understand when I told him about my job, when I told him about the program I got into, when I told him about the place I’d be living; he didn’t understand any of my aspirations or my adventurous soul. 

Thomas has been afraid of anything that is not the place he grew up in for as long as I’ve known him. He thrives on familiarity and comfort, I thrive on curiosity and the unknown. We never would have worked out, and even if we somehow did, I would have left him one day. I would have been miserable. I couldn’t do that to either of us. 

“If he calls again, let him know that I’ve left, and I’ve changed my number, and then block him please” Sam nods. 

She knows it’s for the best. What’s over is over. It’s been over ever since I got my acceptance letter, but I did love Thomas, I do love him, but love is not enough for me. I won’t thrive in our love, and I’d drag him down with me. 

The nice woman, Kim, came and picked up my car. The car I’ve had since I was a junior in highschool, the car that got me through college, is gone forever. This is the beginning of something new. Sam drives me to the airport.  My mom cried when she left last night. My brother hugged me for the first time in years.

 I watch my whole life through the passenger seat window as Sam sings one of her favorite songs. She drops me off at the airport after embracing me as tight as she could.  She’s never been much of a hugger, but today is a special occasion. I wish she could come with me, but she does not want to. I invited her to come. I even offered to buy her plane ticket, but she’s building her life in Montana. I’m the one who’s leaving. 

I look around at the faces of each person who passes by as I find my gate, somewhat hoping to see a familiar face. Everything I’m doing is so unfamiliar. I liked how familiar Thomas was. I almost always knew what to expect from him; he was so predictable. In college he would always walk into class with his bag hanging off his right shoulder, always wore white socks, always sat down next to me, and always said “good morning, Katherine” with a quick grin, before unzipping his bag and pulling a wooden pencil, a pencil sharpener, and his notebook. The wooden pencil is one of the most memorable things from that first semester we had together. Everyone else I noticed, including myself, used mechanical pencils, but he never did. 

My first day of class during my first semester in college was scary. I tried to act confident and attentive, but I was nervous. I felt like everyone was looking at me and noticing my every flaw. I sat alone, as did many others. I remember thinking I was going to be filled with anxiety during every class for the rest of the semester, then I met Thomas. 

I walked into class one minute before it started, and noticed he was sitting in the seat I sat in last class. I felt the anxiety building up inside me while I mapped out where I wanted to sit now that my designated seat was taken. For some reason, I sat down next to him even though my heart was beating super-fast. I panicked and sat in the most familiar spot I knew. He almost immediately looked over to me and started asking me questions about myself. With each passing moment that we talked I felt less and less nervous. From then on, we sat next to each other every week, then we started studying together, then we became good friends. It wasn’t until junior year when he confessed his feelings for me. I’d never thought he had feelings for me, but when I realized he did, I realized my own too.

We were happy. We graduated college together, supported each other searching for the right job, helped each other move into our own places, and above all else, we stayed friends. Until he met Natalie. Natalie was a woman he worked with at the first job he got out of college, the one that I encouraged him to apply to and helped him practice his interview questions for. I unknowingly helped him walk away from us. 

Last year, February 13th, right before Valentine's Day, he told me about her. We had planned something for Valentine's Day, although I never really liked the idea of celebrating our love on a special day of the year, he always wanted to do something special that day, so I’d let him plan something for us. 

The guilt must have been overwhelming him, because he burst. It was the first time I did something special for him for Valentine's Day. He really wanted a special model of this guitar that only had a few replicant models in the states. I’ve never been into making music myself, but it is a big part of Thomas’ life, and I desperately wanted to do a “big gesture” kind of thing for him. It was really hard to find, and not cheap either. I worked extra hours to afford it for him and researched for months to find the closest one to Montana. I drove two states away to get it for him, and when I showed up to his apartment on the night of February 13th to give him the gift and see what he had planned for us, I was met with a pouting man, a bouquet of roses, and my favorite dinner.

 At first, I was concerned, thinking something had happened and that was why he seemed down, but then he whispered the words under his breath. I hugged him to give him comfort and asked him to repeat himself, then, I heard the words clearly.

“I messed up Katherine” he said, before I asked him to tell me the full story.

 I stared at him for a few moments before deciding to grab the guitar and leave. I sold the guitar for more than I bought it for and we did not talk for months. 

On June 12th we ran into each other at the bakery shop he knew I went to often back then. I still don’t think that was a coincidence. I still wonder how often he would go there and get a coffee or a baked item just to see if I was there too. On August 23rd, I forgave him, and we got back together. And on May 20th, I broke up with him for good. It’s May 21st, and I’m sitting on a plane, staring out the window at the clouds, remembering the love and hardships of our relationship. 

The pure, fluffy whiteness of the clouds help me see it all laid out. I see the timeline, from the day we met, to the day he confessed his love, to our first kiss, to me walking out his apartment in tears, and our last kiss. The timeline I can see as pictures out the window of the plane allows me to see how messy it was. I see when it was over, and it wasn’t when I got accepted into this program, or when I left his apartment yesterday; it was over when I walked out of his apartment on February 13th at 8:43 pm with a guitar in my hands and tears falling down my face. It was over when he laid eyes on another woman and chose to betray me. 

My lips grow into an uncontrolled, non-forced smile, and I fall asleep listening to the playlist Sam made for my flight. When I wake up, I’ll be somewhere new, with new people, a new job, and a new life. I couldn’t be more content with knowing that was our last kiss. I hope I never see Thomas ever again.