Run Away With Me

By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. Every one of them ablaze with unique patterns of red, orange, and yellow. All swaying in the breeze, whispering what I already knew. 

“Too late. Too late. Too late!” They hissed. Yes, I thought, it was too late. I had lost her forever. She was probably at the airport by now. She was probably saying goodbye to her family, the friends we share, and no doubt searching for me. Wondering if I had accepted her offer. Or maybe she was already in the clouds, leaving their little town in the dust. Leaving me. 

“Jonathan, don't just stand there! You’re already late!” My mother’s panicked voice cut through my thoughts. I turn around to see my mom behind me, still in her plaid pajamas. She looks exhausted, but ready to put me in my place if I needed it. 

“What? What do you mean?” My mother stares at me for the briefest of seconds before waving a hand towards the bag at her feet. Only then do I realize it’s a fully packed suitcase with my name on it. I look back up to my mother’s face, astonished,

“What is this?” I ask, even though I feel like I already know the answer. It’s more of a whisper than anything. She just looks at me with eyes that say more than words ever could.

“Oh Honey. I know you think staying for your father and me is the most noble thing to do. But this is what's best for you. She’s brought an undeniable spark back into your eyes. You can’t just let her go. We’ll always be here for you. Now it’s time for you to go live your life.” My mother pushes the suitcase to my feet and wraps me in her arms in one swift motion. Just then, my father walks in from the kitchen, clearly already informed about what was happening. Without a word he comes and puts his arms over my mother’s. Once we pulled away, my father grabbed my suitcase and put it in the trunk of a taxi I hadn’t seen arrive.

“Now go before you’re late. Run away to Paris.” My mother wipes a tear from her face and backs away, leaving me to walk down the driveway alone. Am I really doing this? Am I really leaving my home, my family, my certainty? All for her? As I’m standing at the door of the taxi, a leaf falls in front of my face. The flame colored reminder that I was almost out of time. She gave me until today to decide if I would drop everything and move across the world with her to share her dream of painting and making music. 

“Think about it,” she said, brown eyes turning gold in the fading sunlight, “ I could paint sunrises as you sing your newest masterpiece to me. We could spend the day exploring the city and just living our lives. At night we would lay on a roof and watch the stars and talk about all the amazing things we’ll accomplish together.” 

“Oh yeah?” I said, wrapping my arms around her as the air grew colder. “How would we get the money? When would we leave?

“Well that’s just it. I’ve already got the tickets. I’ve been saving up for a few months now and my mom has some family in Paris who can help us until we get on our feet once we get there.” I pull back from her touch as if I’ve been burned.

 “What? Are you crazy? We can’t actually leave. My entire life is here. I couldn’t just up and leave for one girl.” 

My sharp words carved regret into my rain. How could I act so harsh? So spiteful. She was never just “one girl” She was always the perfect girl. I’ve loved her since the day she moved into our little town ten years ago. She’s been by my side for every good and bad moment I’ve had to endure. I was never alone, never scared. I always knew she was there to fight by my side or listen to my rants or hold me when I just needed to cry. How could I be so careless with a girl like that? Of course I have to go with her. I’m in love with her. 

I arrive at the airport, praying I’m not too late. As soon as I have my bag in my hand I begin to run. I don’t stop until I reach my destination. I look around at all of the families wishing their loved ones a safe trip and good luck. Not recognizing anyone, I start to lose hope. Then I see her.

Jade. 

She’s standing a little away from her family, staring at her phone. I then realized she must have been texting me, but I had left my phone on my bed. Her brown hair is loose, curling all the way down her back. She is wearing the maroon sweater I bought her just one month ago for our four year anniversary and her favorite ripped black jeans that she’s sewn too many patches onto. I stand alone for one more moment until she lifts her head and those worried brown eyes connect with mine and I see the spark light up her face. I feel that spark from the bottom of my heart. All arguments and harsh words forgotten, she rushes to me, wrapping herself in my arms. I feel her breathe in and sink back into my embrace. She looks up at me, the biggest smile on her face. Now I’m sure I’ve made the right choice. I was meant to be here with her. 

“I’m so glad you made it.” Her voice comes out as a whisper. Almost like she’s afraid it’s a dream and that I’m still at home. Still not coming. I pull her back to me, not quite ready to let go. 

“How could I let you run away without me?”