Helplessly Hopeless

I saw him for the first time at the weekly pizza night my farm in New York holds every Saturday. Just standing there, talking to his brother and my cousin. He said something and when they all laughed, I smiled along with them. That’s when he saw me. Don’t go mushy on me right now, there was no sparkle in my eye when he saw me. I had my smile still plastered on my face, but my mouth was full of pizza, and I had sauce on my face. He ducked his head away, probably embarrassed for me, but I couldn’t tell because of his mask. As I worked for the rest of the night, serving pizza to guests, I couldn’t help think about him, and that smile in his eyes above the mask. 

I didn’t even know his name, and I would probably never see him after this summer. He probably doesn’t even live up here. The only reason I was here working at my aunt’s farm for the summer was because of a worldwide pandemic, and if I didn’t get out of the house for the summer I might have murdered one of my sisters. 

I saw him for the second time at my friend’s house that Thursday. I think he was looking at me before I was looking at him. That’s a good sign, right? My friend whispered to me that he was looking at me all night, and I smiled, looking over at him again. This time, he smiled back. Later that night, I asked him for his Instagram, and he responded with his name and number. 

I truly talked to him for the first time over text. He teased me about my long and complicated name, and I asked him how to pronounce his. We chatted about sports, (he liked soccer) and our differences in schools. He lives in the city but was able to get out before Corona got too bad. He’s the middle of three boys and is only two months older than me. 

I hung out with him for the first time on the 4th of July. After I worked during pizza night, we played a game of ultimate frisbee and swam in the pond. Then the entire group walked up on top of the hill to watch the fireworks. I wanted him to hold my hand or put his arm around me, but he didn’t. My friends and I started to think he didn’t have much experience with girls, and maybe a tad bit of a chicken. I started to really like him during that night, watching him watching the fireworks. I thought about what life would be like with him. 

I began to figure out more stuff about him. He’s good with kids, but an infrequent texter. He can hold a good conversation over text, but not in real life. He’s a hard worker but easily distracted by his friends. He seems like a good guy but I’m not sure if he’s interested in me. 

I found out about his feelings two weeks after I started liking him. One of my reliable friends told me that he said he liked me. I wanted him to make a move, but he wanted me to make one first. We were both immature teenagers, waiting for each other to confess our feelings to the other. That’s when I found out, he was leaving for Canada in a week. 

The last week before he left was one of the most enjoyable weeks of my life. We hung out every single day, helping little kids make art and flirting the whole time. He admired how easily I stepped up to work with the animals we had here, and I was in awe of his athletic ability. On Saturday, I dressed up nicely, so that I could look good for the last time I saw him. That’s when I received word that he would not be coming. An ATV accident left him hurt badly, so he had to stay home to heal. I was heartbroken. The last time I would see him was gone. There were so many things I regretted, like not telling him how I feel, and not even hugging him. That’s when I got the best news of the day: Canda has shut down its borders, so he won’t be leaving! I’ll be able to see him before I leave next week! 

The last week I saw him before I left we didn’t hang out that much, although he did come over for a full day on Wednesday, even staying for dinner and helping with farm chores. I didn’t know what to say to him, and I felt like he was avoiding me. My friend reasoned that he was probably still sore from the ATV accident, and so I asked him about it and he told me what happened. He hit a pothole in the road and the ATV flipped over him, bouncing off of him while he was on the ground. If he hadn’t thought quicker, it would have ended up a lot worse. 

The last day I was going to see him, I didn’t. Once again, I dressed up kinda nice and even used my nice perfume. I waited to see him, and when I saw his family pull up, my heart jumped. That’s when you know you care about someone: you could hear their name or see their family, and your heart leaps or your stomach flutters. After asking around again, I heard that he still hadn’t healed from the ATV accident. Heartbreak settles in again, like a void reaching its ugly hand out, trying to wrap around your throat. But I won’t let it. His father offers me a place at their table tomorrow for a Sunday brunch and I accept. 

Sunday comes, and I’m elated. I have a plan: I will tell him how I feel, regardless of repercussions. My cousin and I are driven over by his father around noon, and we stayed the whole day. It was one of the best days ever. We laughed and played video games and skipped rocks and learned how to play pool. I have no words as to how to describe the feeling of when he says your name and makes eye contact with you. At the end of the day, I wanted to hug him, or for him to hug me. Nothing happened. I did, however, convince them to come over Monday so that we could say our final goodbyes. 

Monday. The dreaded final day. My last chance to tell him how I feel. I still didn’t know if I was going to. It was his brother’s birthday, so I went over there in the afternoon to hang out for a few hours. My whole friend group was there, and I was super excited. My adult friend who works on the farm with me told me to tell him, and the worst that could happen was him saying no. I knew that I’d regret this day for the remainder of my life if I didn’t say anything. When I got the 10-minute warning that I was leaving soon, I went out to find him. He was sitting by the campfire with his brother and his brother’s girlfriend. I kinda just stood behind them for a while, watching the fire. I wanted to do it so badly, but something didn’t feel right. I wasn’t getting the right signals from him. My ride got there, and the next thing I knew, I was in the back of a pickup going back to the farm, the words still on my lips. 

Sometimes things don’t turn out the way you plan them. You’ll have a beautiful masterpiece, and someone will break it into a thousand pieces. You could walk over nails for someone, and when you reach the end, they’ll just push you back to fall. You could give up everything for them, and nothing will change. 

I truly thought something good could come of this semi romance, in the midst of a historical event, but nothing ever does. You see, we should learn to love, and not fall in love, because when you fall in love, the person trying to catch you might get hurt, but they can also drop you, and you get hurt too. That’s how love works.