Pretty Visits

Last Time

More than week, but still too little.

Then, it would all be gone.

For a lifetime, I spent building my home, making friendships, loving her, and for what?

To leave? To leave and never come back?

I would be back, one day.

One day.

Not tomorrow.

Not next week.

Not in a month.

Not even a year.

Years.

Plural.

Years, plural, without her.

Without everything.

How could I ever?

Why should I ever?

Or maybe, I should just stop thinking about this.

She's staying, I'm leaving.

Sometimes, stuff like this just happens.

Maybe I should be happy.

I can't, though.

I can't, because then, it would mean that I'm okay with this.

And I'm not.

Definitely not.

This Time

Getting the letter out of the mailbox was the second hardest thing to do. Expecting it to be a letter full of apologies, and luck not being on my side.

Even though it wasn't.

Reed College had accepted me. A dream, come to life.

Flooded with happiness, I started thinking about the trip there.

Taking the plane, it would probably be hours long.

From Brooklyn to Portland, I would need something to read.

That's when I remembered.

The last time I thought about leaving, it broke my heart.

Lisa had already been planning on staying, and I imagined leaving without her.

Saying goodbye at the airport, getting too scared to kiss her goodbye and end up regretting it later.

Thinking about all the time we spent together, knowing it wasn't going to continue in college.

I shook my head, taking my mind off it.

It was finally my chance to get my plays somewhere. In a theater, not just read by my English teachers and forgotten.

Lisa always wanted to be an actor, but then she gave up that dream. We were supposed to work on plays together.

I shook my head again, this time with more force.

If I wanted to get somewhere, I had to go somewhere first.

It was a week before the trip, exactly seven days.

It was about twelve fifteen in the morning, and Lisa and I were messaging each other, until one of us would fall asleep.

I can't wait to drive you to the airport, she said. I mean, I'll be sad, I'm not happy about you leaving, but what I mean is, well, . . . you know, the drive. It's gonna be a while, and we're gonna have fun before you leave.

Yeah, I said. We can stop by a couple stores, or get some coffee or something. It's gonna be late at night, right?

You're the one going, she said. I forgot the time.

We kept messaging, but I was out of it.

I'm the one going.

I'm the one leaving.

Not her.

I'll be leaving her.

"Six days left," I said, getting up, putting things in my suitcase. "Only six more days, and I'll be gone. Gone. Forever? No. Not forever. Definitely not forever. Forever is way too much time."

"Five days!" I said, getting my mail from the front. "It's going by too fast!"

I went back in, looked through everything, threw away the random spam letters, and opened one that seemed a little too 'normal'.

It was a black envelope with white writing. White gel pen. Lisa's hand writing.

I opened it and took out the letter.

Inside were a series of little love notes, like those you would find on Pinterest or Instagram.

I smiled, looking through each of them.

Most of them were song lyrics, some book clippings, other little drawings.

When we first got together, Lisa and I would put stuff in each other's mail boxes, just like this.

We would go back and forth, over a dozen notes within a week.

Eventually, we both ran out of paper and the prices for paper at the stores went up by like a dollar, but by then we found cute GIFS and pngs, so we used those instead.

Inside the envelope was also a little note card, saying, "Adding more to your collection, 'cause you always gave me more anyway."

There was a little heart drawn at the end.

I smiled.

"Four. Days. Left."

I was looking through a box full of pictures of Lisa and me, back when we first started going out.

The first few, the oldest ones, were simpler. We were scared of getting outed a few months back, so we tried to be as casual as possible.

Then when everyone found out, we started taking better pictures. Instead of putting bunny-ears on each other's heads with our hands, we held each other's hand, we drew little hearts above us, we even colored a little rainbow in the background in a few.

I laughed, a quiet, sad, but happy laugh.

"Only four more days."

"Three more days," I said, leaving my room at two in the morning to go to the bathroom.

"Two more days," I said, putting my phone to charge, checking the date and time.

"Tomorrow!" I said, knocking on Lisa's door.

It was a quiet exclamation, of shock of course. How would I ever be happy about leaving?

It was the day. The night. Same difference.

Lisa had picked me up at my house a long time ago, and we were now on our way to the airport.

Right as she stopped to drop me off, I burst into tears.

"I don't wanna go," I said. "I don't wanna leave you."

"It's okay," Lisa said.

"No it's not!" I said. "I'm leaving you, leaving everything behind, and for what? My own dreams? Why should be happy about that-"

"I'm not saying you have to be happy," Lisa said, tears forming in her eyes now. "I'm saying that it's okay to go. It's okay. We'll miss each other, it might be hard, but we'll make it. We'll visit each other. Nice visits. Not ones that make us sad about only seeing each for a while. Pretty visits. Ones that make us happy, and remember each other. Ones that make us continue forward. It's okay to go. It's not goodbye. It's see you later. See you soon. Soon, Clara."

I wiped my tears, and nodded.

"Okay," I said. "See you soon."