Be Happy

I always thought love was a spark igniting then exploding into the night sky in dazzling colors, but although it's cliché enough when I met you that thought changed.

It was back in junior year that I transferred to your school, scared of leaving my home in Ohio and starting

new. It was like any coming-of-age movie, girl move schools and meets a guy, falls in love oh so suddenly. I felt special when I was with you as if the drama of high school was beneath us. Six months into our relationship we said "I love you" under the oak tree in front of the school. Giggling to ourselves in the hallways and whispering underneath blankets on your mom's couch it felt as if our time was endless.

But we both knew that come graduation we would be separated and in order to spare feelings decided to end it the summer before college. I knew you were as heartbroken as I was but we tried to be mature, knowing that it was never going to last. In totally different states we dived into clubs, schoolwork, and parties to distract ourselves from the empty feeling that formed in our hearts. Almost every night for weeks I dreamt of the last words you said to me, “Be happy and I’ll see you again.” These seven words echoed in my head because I knew that we both wanted to say more, but feared the other getting hurt. Everyone told me that it was just puppy love and I would get over it soon and I started to believe them.

Eventually, I only thought of you in the spring when I saw the first flower bloom and in the winter at first snowfall. I was busy with my friends that missed me for the two years I was with you, but Ohio didn’t feel like home anymore. I knew something was missing and the thought that it was you would cross my mind, but I kept believing that you were happier in a different state, making memories with other people. I stopped checking your Instagram and your mom stopped asking me how college was. I started to date a guy named Matthew, calling him Mattie whenever I wanted something. You stopped checking my stories and we avoided each other whenever we were back in town for school breaks. It was almost as if we knew seeing each other would be more damaging than the short pain of being ignored.

Matthew and I had our two year anniversary and I know you started to date someone from a club you joined, but when I look back on it I never realized how much it hurt when I found that out. With Matthew, I felt that spark, swarms of butterflies, and every other thing you can find in the movies describing how it feels to love someone. I always felt excited around him but it was almost as if overnight that changed. The spark died. I didn’t want to give up on another love but it didn’t feel the same anymore.

This time the breakup didn’t hurt though. Just a dull ache that seemed to disappear without notice the next day.

All of a sudden we were graduating and starting new lives. I wasn’t sure what you were up to but you started to pop up in my head at night when I would lie awake. I moved back to our town to take help take care of my dad and got a job teaching elementary school. A few years went by and in passing one of your friends asked me how I was doing. I didn’t want to say how I would wonder if you’re still dating that girl or if you ever planned to move back. Almost as if the universe read my mind I saw you again. I was walking home to my apartment after work and on a whim decided to go to the coffee shop we used to spend hours studying. I sat near the window grading papers when I heard the barista call your name.

I almost didn’t look. I’m glad I did though.

You used to keep your hair short basically a buzzcut, but now it had grown out and was styled back. You grew into the nose we used to always joke about when ours would hit each other after a kiss. Your eyes seemed happy so I averted mine quickly.

It wasn’t until I heard my name that we made eye contact. I was nervous around you, scared to hear all the things that you’ve been up to. But you took a seat next to mine and jokingly asked if I had failed to learn the alphabet, gesturing to the red-filled paper I was writing over. But just like that everything I didn’t want to hear disappeared from my mind and the next thing we knew the café was closing.

The girl you had started dating years ago? You broke up a while back.

Why you were back in town? You were opening a law firm that was just around the corner.

How have you been? “Good, for lack of a better word to sum the years up,” you said.

You asked if I was busy on Saturday because you wanted help getting all the deals at the farmer’s market and on Saturday I put on my best summer dress to meet you. When I think back to that day I can’t remember what we bought if we got anything, but I do remember you dropping my off in front of my apartment and asking if we could meet again, for dinner this time. I couldn’t help but smile and kiss your cheek, wordlessly saying yes.

A month later we were dating but things felt different this time. I remember introducing you to my parents and they thought it was ‘cute’ we were dating. I remember your mom asking me how college was again after all this time and both of us laughing. Everything felt fresh and sweet like nothing could go wrong.

A year and a half after us dating I moved into your apartment and every Thursday night we would go to the café downstairs and order the same thing we got on that night we met again. Our new puppy got ahold of your work shoes a few days after you bought them and I remember trying to stop myself from giggling at you holding up the torn up loafers.

In our fourth year of dating, you proposed to me in our small apartment and both of us cried holding each other while the dog tried to crawl between us. And a short while later we were standing at the altar exchanging rings and smiles.

I remember when our daughter asked me how I knew what love was and if it really was like the movies.

And I remember saying, “Our love felt like a movie, but not the fleeting love that you see between teenagers or the spark that eventually dies out.

It was a feeling of comfort and being safe, knowing that no matter what happens in the world the two of us were together.

It was fighting and yelling over oven mitts and lemons, knowing that we would talk it out and end up eating popcorn together on the couch.

It was going to the farmer’s market on Saturdays holding hands, knowing that they fit together like a puzzle and was just as beautiful as one.

And it was staring into each other’s eyes with as much love like that first night in the café every single night even when the last night came and you whispered ‘Be happy and I’ll see you again.’”