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boo-radley14 · 5 years ago

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If I live to 50 without her, it will be too long.

I met this girl when I was 22. I knew she was gay because I knew of her through friends. But when we first met, I was thrown off by the way she acted around men. It immediately turned me off to her because my relationship to men is very different, and I didn’t understand it at the time. It wasn’t until days later that I realized she was different, and that I had misjudged her. So I decided to work a lacrosse camp with her, in a different state, just me and her and 30 young athletes to take care of. During the day I spent my time admiring her eloquence, her passion for the game and the kids, and all the quirks that made her who she is. I tried to keep those things to myself, hoping that no one noticed I was so much more focused on her than anything else in front of me. But at night, we spent hours up talking, even though we had to wake up everyday at 6am for camp. And when I say this I mean it with every fiber of my being, I have never enjoyed hearing about someone’s past more than I did hers. Every single story, no matter how important it was in her life, felt important to me. The hours and hours of conversation that we shared was by far the most genuine thing I have ever been a part of. In one week of knowing her, I had fallen completely head over heels. I know that seems fast, but I don’t think there has ever been a connection in the world that was stronger than what we built in that weeks time. I will never forget the nights we spent on the water, talking about how much we loved crescent moons and what we wanted for our futures. And on the third night of camp, in our little dorm room... I asked if I could kiss her. she said yes, but we were both shaking. It wasn’t the kind of nervous feeling that you get when you think somethings going to go wrong or something unexpected might happen. It was because we knew what was about to happen, and I don’t think either of us had ever experienced anything like it. I couldn’t even try to explain the electricity that coursed through my body when our lips touched for the first time even if I tried. I don’t even think Shakespeare could capture the magic, it was just that perfect. No other lips would ever be able to compare to hers from that moment on.

When camp was over, we decided to go on a mini vacation together. We got a hotel room, walked around a crowded town on the beach, went to dinner, and spent the night intertwined. It meant so much more to me because neither of us expected sex. I was fine with staring at her, watching the way her mouth moved when it formed different words, noticing how her tongue touched the roof of her mouth more than the average person when she spoke. And when we did kiss, it felt just as amazing as it did the first time. That never changed. We also found a song that ended up becoming a staple in our relationship (after tonight). With the lyrics “free to fly” bringing something we both needed at this point in our separate lives, as well as together as one.

I had a year left of college, where I played division I lacrosse. She is 5 years older than me, and was a d1 lacrosse coach in a different state. We spent as much time as we could together, growing, learning, laughing— but when summer ended, our relationship was distance. There was about 400 miles between us now, but most days it didn’t even feel like there was a single one. The best part was we didn’t talk constantly. She had a hard and busy job, I had 3/4 workouts and practices a day on top of classes. But we didn’t need to. I felt her. the connection was always there. I thought about her constantly, and I’d let her know at various points throughout the day I was thinking of her, she would do the same. We had FaceTime dates some times, we’d fall asleep snoring into our phones after meaningful conversations about bugs or childhood trauma or the kind of underwear we liked most. No topic was off limits, and no topic was any less important than the other. Getting to know her was my first priority, no matter how small the details. I went to visit her two weeks into school. Even though our connection was always there, I missed her. So I hopped on a plane and went to see my girl, what better way to spend a weekend? It was this weekend that is forever engraved in my memory, I can still feel the feeling of when she told me she loved me for the first time. I decided to skip Monday classes and stay with her, and we were exhausted from staying up all night. We crawled in bed midday to take a nap, and she kept saying “baby?” I would respond with “yes?” but then she stayed silent. I didn’t push. I could feel what was coming, and I wanted her to say it when she felt it. After the tenth “baby?” she followed up with “look at me” and when I did she so sweetly said “I love you.” I can’t describe the butterflies, they were more than butterflies. It was my entire body lighting on fire one part at a time, starting from my chest and then flaring out all the way to my forehead, fingers and toes. I thought the feeling of our kiss was intense, but hearing those words made that feeling feel like a static shock, this was full blown electrocution. in the best way— of course.

We finished out my final year of undergrad, and she changed jobs— making her even farther away. But that didn’t matter. I picked up my life with nothing but love for her, found a beautiful little house in a cute suburban neighborhood, and moved in with her 700 miles from where I had always called home. I didn’t have a job or a clue when I would get one. But I didn’t even care. I had her, I had our little house, I had an education and I had freedom to do what I wanted. But really all that mattered was that I had her. I got a job selling furniture. It was different and nothing I ever expected to do. But I was making really good money, and like I said, I had her. She had a really demanding job. She worked 14-16 hours a day, 7 days a week. It was hard sometimes because we didn’t have much time to spend together. But when we did, we made scavenger hunts for each other, we made up games to get to know each other even more than we already did. We binged watched shows, we visited local animal shelters often, we watched collegiate lacrosse regularly, we tried new recipes, we cuddled, we talked.. it was nothing short of breathtaking no matter what we were doing. After 6 months of living together I knew this was what I wanted for the rest of my life. I knew that nothing would ever be able to top it. I bought a guitar, but I didn’t know how to play. So I took lessons. I learned how to play “Can’t help falling in love” within about 2 months. I brought my friends from work to help me pick out a ring. She wanted a decent sized diamond, white gold, and designs or patterns in the actual ring band. Size 7. I found the perfect one. My plan was to take her to Colorado with her best friends along for the trip, too. I’d asked her friend to hike to the top of a mountain before me with the guitar so she wouldn’t see it since I kept me learning to play a secret. Then I would ask her to take the hike with just me. And when we’d get to the top her friends would be there and I’d grab the guitar, surprise her with her favorite song, and then ask her to marry me.

She left me a few months before I got to do this. we woke up on a random Tuesday— like any other Tuesday it seemed. She was acting strange, I asked her what was wrong and she said, “I am too far gone.” Although the statement was vague, I didn’t have to ask. She is very calculated. She never speaks without purpose. I knew she meant she was leaving me. I knew it was over and there wasn’t a single thing in the world I could do to stop it from happening. I dropped to the ground and cried immediately, no hesitation. She tried to hug me but I wouldn’t let her. I melted into an absolute puddle of defeat, sadness and agony. The room felt like it was spinning and I couldn’t keep up. My tears made puddles on the tile floor and even though I know I was sobbing so loud, I couldn’t hear anything. Including her trying to calm me down. To me this came out of no where. I was getting ready to propose, to plan a wedding, this was my forever. This was it for me. It actually felt like pieces of me were falling off. Like every memory was a part of me and they were just being ripped away one by one, each more painful than the last. I don’t even know how long it took me to finally get up off the floor, but sometimes it still feels like I never did.

Before I met her I claimed I didn’t have a soul. I wasn’t in touch with a lot of parts of myself that she awakened. I went from not thinking I had a soul to feeling like it was on fire. I have never felt so alive in my life than I did when I was standing next to her. Now that she’s gone, I feel less alive than ever. I feel like I would be okay not being okay. She was it for me. And I know this because it’s been a year, and she is still all I think about. Getting to know other people makes me angry because they aren’t as deep as her. They don’t feel things the way I do and they aren’t as real as she is with the way they communicate. I have not made one single connection in a year that I have actually wanted to pursue. I haven’t touched anyone new. Her lips are still the last I’ve kissed, and I think it will be that way for a really long time. Maybe even forever. But it doesn’t bother me. it doesn’t bother me at all. I want to die, but not in the immediate “I’m going to kill myself” type of way. Because I could never, no matter how badly I wanted to. I have an amazing family and some truly solid friends that I would never put through that— even though I don’t owe my life to anyone. I just wouldn’t do it. but I drink a lot. I smoke a lot. I’ve started mixing pills with alcohol just to feel the feeling of being at the brink of death. I thought it would scare me, but it doesn’t. I am not overwhelmed with sadness. I don’t spend my days in bed crying and I rarely cry myself to sleep anymore. I still hang out with friends, go to school, and have a job. I am a ghost among humans, and I am okay with that. I have come to terms with the fact that I had my one true love and lost it, and loving anyone else doesn’t even interest me anymore. I have calmed the madness and the hysteria in my mind. It doesn’t wish for a new love to make me forget these feelings, it doesn’t even wish for her back most of the time. It doesn’t wish for anything. I am just living, breathing, and numb. I would never kill myself, but if you think I’m not trying to ensure an early death, you’re wrong. Like I said to start this off, I’m 25 now.

If I live to 50 without her, it will be too long.

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