Before all of…this, before the tears and the drama there was something different about me. For the past five or six months I’ve been working on letting go. I had allowed myself to become very cynical. I built walls to protect myself, I hardened my heart because I was terribly afraid. I don’t regret that time period-I needed it to heal, to grow stronger, wiser even. Yet, I don’t think it is conducive to happy living to remain cynical forever.
After a string of hilarious (though less than desirable Tinder dates) I agreed to meet a boy at a quirky little coffee shop called The Muddy Cup. He showed up early and couldn’t stop obsessing over the dog at the table next to us. He laughed at my jokes but not when I spilled tea down myself. I discovered he liked mornings and hated being late, we fumbled through an awkward goodbye and for whatever reason I saw glimpses of the “green light” within his blue eyes.
Time passed and my cynicism still hadn’t faded. I waited for the morning he wouldn’t text me, I waited for the day he wouldn’t respond. He called me “Ms.Daisy” and gave me clues to uncover where our date would be, I planned picnics and cut our sandwiches in the shape of hearts. I was afraid because I was falling for him. I’d never met someone I enjoyed kissing so much. I taught him about gingham and he explained compilers and binary code. He always walked me to my car, I always hated when we had to say goodbye. He intimidated me, I felt nervous, I felt awkward, my heart raced, he took my breath away. He let me bite his shoulders when I didn’t know what to say, we stayed up late sharing secrets, fears and dreams. I knew I was leaving for Nova Scotia, afraid to tell him, afraid to let go of the tiny bit of magic I’d stumbled upon in The Muddy Cup that summer day.
I boarded a Delta flight to Detroit then Halifax, my stomach churned as I flew 4,000 miles away from both my home and my heart. I hoped for the best but the green light seemed dull, could a light really shine through 4,000 miles of mountains and wilderness and unfamiliar cities? There were Facetime dates and thousands of text messages that made my heart flutter. I wondered if this Gatsby boy could really feel for me the way I felt for him. He booked a flight to visit me, he kissed me at the airport, he danced with me at a ball, we ate breakfast in bed, it was a fairytale. The green light shone brighter than ever. I hoped, I believed. The feeling was foreign but it was beautiful.
The last month in Nova Scotia was the most difficult. I longed for the day when I could see him for real. I hoped for a future filled with more snuggly mornings spying on people in his neighborhood out the window, more hiking trips, every piece of his life I uncovered felt like treasure and I was ravenous to discover it all. I returned home filled with nervous excitement, my heart shook but still I followed it.
As it turns out sometimes good things fall apart just when you think they’re falling together. You may find yourself in a magical wonderland just for the sun to set and the world to turn dark. Usually I can see the end as it’s happening, but I’ve realized now that sometimes things don’t end five steps past the breaking point. Sometimes things don’t turn sour before they disintegrate. Sometimes things end during what you thought was the beginning of the fairytale (when you still have butterflies) (when your heart still skips a beat when he enters the room). Those endings can leave you feeling as if a bomb just exploded. There’s no finality but you’re forced to let go.
I thought the beginning of a love story was unfolding. I thought there would be more kisses that would take my breath away and late nights learning about him. The kisses aren’t coming anymore, the memory of butterflies linger around me like ghosts. In someways the world seems so cruel and unfair but I must remember that even through this Gatsby-esque tragedy I received a gift, a gift that as long as I don’t allow it cannot be taken away from me.
Though he didn’t know it, though he didn’t mean to, that Gatsby boy gave me the green light. Every kiss restored my faith a little bit, every butterfly reminded me that there is still beauty to be found and though the ending seems twisted and unfair I’m thankful for the green light I found in his blue eyes that Wednesday as I sipped tea.
P.S. I want to thank the blogging community for all of the love and support I have received the past few days. Through my epic feelings of sadness you have continued to envelope me in love. I never expected to find so many genuinely caring people through this little blog and I am astounded by your caring hearts.