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So I didn’t know why I was feeling this way. Why I was so worried about her tone as I replayed our conversation in my head. Why I feared that this hard place she was in would be too much for her.
As I listened to her words echo over and over in my mind, I pulled up the app and clicked on her profile. Even though I could check her status in the database whenever I wanted, I still set a notification so that if she ever turned active again, I would be alerted.
I wasn’t sure why that mattered.
But something in my gut told me that it did.
Me:Just checking on you. It’s been about a week, I think, things going well? Any chance you’re in town?
Love:So much has happened in the last seven days. I feel like I’ve aged ten years.
Me:Good things, I hope?
Love:You were right, you know. About everything. It’s been such an adventure so far, but it’s all working out.
Me:You were faced with a hard decision. You obviously made the right one. I’m happy for you.
Love:Thanks for your help.
Me:Some friends and I are going out tonight. We’ll be hitting up the Back Bay if you feel like getting a drink.
Love:Yeah...about that.
Me:I figured it was a long shot.
Love:More than that—it’s sadly almost impossible at this point. But here’s what I can promise, if I ever make my way back to Boston, that answer will be yes.
As I stared at her text, I began to nod, my lips grinding together.
There wasn’t a single word she had typed that shocked me.
Deep down, I knew.
I knew this was what she was referring to when she told me this was going to hurt.
In her head, she saw our future, how this was all going to play out, and long distance—for Love—wasn’t an option.
But not long ago, I’d envisioned what leaving would look like—a new skyline, our hands clasped, two coffees sitting in front of us.
Maybe I should have thought about it for real.
Maybe I should have dug deeper and considered the possibility.
What I’d kept telling myself was that Love was a woman I’d seen only once, someone I hardly knew. Besides, she’d never even asked me to move; she’d only asked if I was married to Boston.
Had I been given an invitation, maybe the result would have me feeling much differently. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel the way I did now.
Because now she was gone, and my mind was tearing that vision to shreds.
And for me ... that hurt.
Me:I swear you just passed me at JFK. I would recognize that back and those gorgeous hips anywhere. Or maybe I’m just wishing you’ll appear at the airport, and I can smuggle you onto the plane with me and take you home.
Love:I just landed at Heathrow. Opposite sides of the pond, I’m afraid. But my bestie is passing through JFK today and we have similar body types. Wouldn’t it be wild if it was her?!?
Love:And hiii, btw.
Me:I’ve been thinking about you a lot. Too much, probably.
