Meant to Be

It was late at night, I usually didn’t go to bed until 11:30 ish because I read before I go to bed. It helps calm down my usually busy mind and any friend of mine should know that.

Almost at that exact thought, my phone screen lit up, notifying me off a message.

I read the name at the top. Brady.

We met back in fourth grade- it was ages ago. And sense then we’d gone through all the awkward phases, friends, to puppy love, lovers, broken up, and back to friends, it was normal that I should have received a text from

him.

If I was being honest with myself those feelings for him never died, they merely just were put on pause while we worked on finishing high school. They just never went away.

“Hey,” the message started. “I know it’s late, and your probably in the middle of reading. But I have a flight tomorrow morning and I was wondering if you could give me a ride? I’d pay you… if you want.”

He was always so polite too. That’s half the reason I loved him in the first place. He was kind, a true gentleman to the heart.

I smiled upon reading his message. We didn’t talk as much as we used to, but enough to call us best friends still.

“Of course!,” I started to reply. “No money needed. What time is your flight.”

“6:00 am, if that’s to early.. I’ll just take an Uber, that’s fine too.”

“No worries, I can get you there on time.”

“Thank you!”

“Anytime.”

“I’ll let you finish reading now.”

I replied with a smiling emoji, and continued my reading. We usually helped each other out when it came to rides places and things like that.

But something felt different about this time. It was hard to put my finger on it, even when I turned out my lights for the night and tried to sleep, I couldn’t get him out of my head.

~~~

The next morning I was up around 4:00 to make sure I could get myself ready. I only threw on a sweatshirt and kept my sweatpants on, quickly brushing through my hair and teeth.

I made myself some oatmeal for breakfast and quickly ate it.

“Picking you up around 5:00,” I texted him the 30 minute warning, he replied back with a simple “okay. again, thanks for doing this.”

I threw on my jacket, rising out the rest of my dishes.

It was about an hour to the closest airport from where we lived, so I hopped in the car and headed to his house.

We've spent time together in a car before- collectively adding up to a lot of time, but we are both very, very awkward people. So socially awkward that even though we are close friends, we still get awkward around each other. But that’s the way it always has been.

I pulled up in his driveway and I opened the trunk to my older car, and he immediately came out of his house, locked his door, and put his suitcase in my truck; lastly coming into the passenger seat.

“Hi!,” I said. “How are you?”

It feels like forever that I’ve missed his smiling face.

“Not to shabby, you?,” that was another thing too. We always seemed to use unordinary words when talking to each other- it’s always been a thing.

“I’m doing alright.”

“Good.”

I nodded, and we fell into silence. To which people usually found this silence awkward, and believe me, it was for us, but it was more common.

I pulled out of the driveway and started to get on the highway, towards the airport.

“Where are you headed?”

He seemed to be lost in thought before I asked the question. “Oh, um, New York.”

“Ooh. Sounds like fun. What’s in New York?”

“Visiting for the holidays,” he replied simply.

I smiled. I wondered if that was his real reason. Because we went on a trip there together when we were still dating- but I didn’t want to ask, because maybe it was something personal.

During the drive we made small talk, cracked our usual stupid jokes and brought up old memories that were special to us. And finally we were there.

I stepped out of the car with him, planning to give him a hug before he left.

He was currently getting his suitcase out of the trunk. I forgot just how cute he was. He was one of the lucky few people in the world who could look youthful his whole life, and still look older and more mature at the same time.

“Do you want me to pick you up too? After the trip I mean?”

“If you could that would be great,” he made quick eye contact with me.

I went to give him and hug and he hugged me back. He still smelled good too. “I’ve missed you,” I smiled.

“Me too.”

I took a step back and he said, “walk with me until I get to security.”

“Okay,” I said. Trying not to let my confusion show.

It was 6:00, so we had to rush.

He printed out his tickets and got his bag checked in for baggage claim.

I ran along side him until we got to security.

“I’ll be here to pick you up,” I said.

“Okay,” he whispered. He sounded a little breathless- which was odd because he was a hockey and soccer player, so he usually wasn’t breathless when it came to a little running.

He bent down to give me a hug again (I used to be way taller then him, now he was way taller then me).

Finally he whispered “I think I’m still in love with you,” he didn’t pull out of the hug, though I wished I could see his face.

My eyes widened, and I was silent as I thought. Because, if I was being honest with myself… I think I was still in love with him too.

“Really?,” I finally managed, whispering in his ear.

I felt him nod, my hands tightened around him and I said… “me too.”

He pulled back to look at my face to make sure I wasn’t lying. He knew me well enough to know I wasn’t.

He stared into my eyes for a second, whispered “I’ll see you when I get back,” kissed my cheek, then was gone, through security.

Warm feelings welled inside me as I thought about what had just happened.

I drove home, staring blankly the whole way. Did that happen, or was it all a dream?

Finally at night I called him.

“I think we need to talk about what happened at the airport,” my stomach was all fuzzy again.

“What is there to talk about?”

“You're being serious?”

“Dead serious,” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Well,” I was starting to blush now. “In that case.. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Then he hung up.

And I couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of time.