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“Oh Cami, I feel so horrible for him. I wish there was something that I could do, but I don’t think he even wants to speak to me. He was so cold and was practically seething with anger at me.”
She continues to rub my back while I sob all the way to her apartment.
When we get to her place—that is covered in unpacked boxes from her recent move back home with me—we go straight to her room where she throws a night shirt at me and insists I change. She puts me to bed and covers me up. She sits next to me on the side of the bed while I just lay there staring at the wall.
“Chica, I am sure this was not the reunion you had envisioned. I know you’re hurting right now, but try not to take it personal. He’s been through so much, sweetie. Seeing you tonight was just as much of a shock to him as I’m sure it was to you.”
“Just the thought that I could have been a part of creating the version of him that I saw tonight is unbearable. I . . . I . . . I feel like I need to do something for him, anything. I wish I had been there for him. I was so selfish, Cam. I didn’t even tell him my last name or give him my phone number. I wasn’t there for him when he needed me most.”
I sit up in the bed and throw the blankets off of me. I can’t breathe. Before I know what I’m doing I start pacing the room.
“Em, stop.”
I keep pacing.
Cami grabs me by the arms and yells into my face.
“Emily Grace Jacobs! Stop!”
I stop next to her bed and look my best friend in the face. The person that is always there for me. Some people go to priests. Some go to shrinks. I go to Cami.
“Em. Take a deep breath.”
“I should have told him, Cam. I should have given him the choice. Maybe we could have at least been friends and then I could have been there for him when he needed me most. How could I have been so selfish?”
“Em, you were scared, you weren’t selfish. You, yourself, were at the beginning of something life changing and you had just been devastated by somebody else the week before. You were in self-preservation mode and it was easier to walk away from him than possibly endure any more rejection than you already had. I get it, chica, and I am so sorry it was a decision you ever had to make but it’s not your fault. Even if you had said yes to trying to make it work, he still would have lost his mom and Matt.”
I know she’s right, but I still can’t help but think that I’m to blame for him turning into the man that I saw tonight. He looked the same, and for the love of all that’s Holy, he still smelled the same. But he was so cold and there was no light left behind his eyes. But I still felt it. I felt it in that first moment that our eyes locked onto each other. That electricity . . . that connection was still there.
“Cam, I still felt it. The moment I saw him I felt it. Even though he was cold and hurtful it didn’t matter. The moment I touched him . . . Cam . . . it was overwhelming and just like it was five years ago. He hates me and I’m still in love with him.”
Cami, wipes the lone tear that is slowly making its way down my cheek and then hands me a much needed tissue.
“Honey, he’s the love of your life. Of course you’re still in love with him.”
“Cami, come on, that’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Had you ever been in love before Jonathan?”
“No.”
“How about since?”
“Cami, you know the answer to that question. Why are you doing this to me?” I whine like a petulant child and throw myself on the bed.
“Because it may have only been nine days, but Em, he was the one. The worst part of it is that you let him get away. Now, we know you can’t go back in time and you aren’t the same person he met in San Clemente five years ago but neither is he, Em. You’ve both been through a lot since then and that’s bound to change you both.”
She walks over to where I am and flops herself down on the bed next to me. As we both lay on our backs staring at the ceiling, she grabs my hand and we lay there for a few silent minutes.
“You may not be the same girl you were when he met you but one thing I’m sure of is that I have watched you turn in to an amazing woman these last five years. You are so strong, Em. I am so proud of you. Maybe when you’re ready . . . and he’s ready . . . you guys can sit down and talk about things.”
“Thanks Cam, and I really do love your optimism, but if you had seen him tonight . . . well you would realize that there is no way he will ever feel like talking to me.”
“Well, keep an open mind and if the opportunity presents itself and just remember, no regrets. Now let’s get you to bed. You need to sleep and hopefully you’ll feel better in the morning.”
I know that she’s right. The two of us have always vowed to live our life with no regrets, but right now I’m full of them.
I’m not sure how, but I do fall asleep. I dream of hazel eyes, dimples, cottages and walks on the beach.
