You are my analgesic, my temporary remedy. Tonight I will not wallow in remorse over what happened to us, because I know it was in our fate, but I will take this time to indulge myself in the beautiful bittersweet memory that was us.
You were the handsome stranger that introduced himself as “the guy you can take home to mom”, and that, you were right. If I had the slightest clue that you would be the man that would change my life forever, I may have proceeded with caution. But instead, like an eager child I jumped in enthusiastically; heart first, brain in tow, and all other organs to follow. I was intrigued by you. Intellectually you stimulated me. When you were near my heart pulsated uncontrollably; I’m surprised your presence didn’t throw me into a deadly cardiac fit. The night you entered my life is now but a blur in my memory, but the days and months to follow I remember them vividly.
Shortly after we met that sweet November, you were off to college and we would be exactly 869.33 miles apart. The distance seemed so much longer then. You were gone for over three months, those were the three most excruciating months of my life (jk). Although you were nearly 1,000 miles away, we got closer and closer, our relationship stronger and stronger—I felt like we could conquer the world; my childish imagination biting off more than it could chew of course. Then March rolled around, I knew it would only be a matter of days and I could finally hold you in my arms and whisper all the sweet nothings I had been saving up to say in the last three months. Before your arrival I spent days making you a card, my “ruined puzzle” heart mosaic. I poured my heart out onto those brightly colored pages, more than you will ever know. And the rush of emotions I felt during those hours of tedious pasting were so overwhelming; I was intoxicated by my feelings for you—and no it wasn’t the glue, promise.
The day we had both anticipated had now arrived. It was 03/13/04, our first date. As promised you arrived at the arranged time. I saw your car as I glanced anxiously at the window, and my heart dropped. It dropped to the pit of my stomach. There were no butterflies, but it was a feeling far better than butterflies, a feeling that I still can’t put into words to this day. By the way, I saw you parked at the mailbox across the street before you decided to sit idle in front of my house; I just pretended not to notice. I stood at the door for a few seconds in an attempt to collect myself, but instead I flung the door open with a giant enormous ridiculous grin on my face and ran to you. The man of my dream had finally arrived in front of my house. You opened the driver’s side and my heart raced in excitement. So much that I had to remind my brain stem that I needed to breathe. You came around to the passenger side and held the door open, and to my surprise there, on the passenger seat laid a bouquet of beautiful flowers. Slowly you closed my door with that boyish smirk on your face (yes, I noticed that too) and climbed back into the driver’s seat. Quite a charmer you were. Then we were off. We had now embarked on the first day of our beginning.
Before journeying north, we took a detour and visited my best friend at work, as requested. She approved. On our way to our first destination I asked that we visit family. I refused to tell you then, but my uncle, one of the most prominent father figures, in my life wanted to meet and intimidate you. Obviously, that didn’t work. We didn’t stay long, but my family members adored you, my aunt couldn’t get over how handsome you were; I hear about it occasionally now and then.
Finally, we arrived at Museum of Art. We discussed and scrutinized the famous artwork in our presence. Occasionally, your hand fell into mine—you were trying to be slick, but in reality it was your hand to hold whenever you wish. After a another museum or two, we found ourselves surrounded by a crowd of people in front of the Botanical Garden. I could feel your piercing eyes on me, afraid to meet your glance I stared nervously at the lotuses. Your glance was then broken by the striking of the clock. It was 4 o’clock. You grabbed my hand and hurried to the car. We got in, you made sure my seatbelt were fastened and we were on to destination number two.
The sun was setting and we were on a race against time. I was confused, I had yet to piece the importance of the striking of the clock that initiated this hurried behavior, so I sat quietly as we pulled into Seaport Village. It was then that I understood. We walked for a bit and found refuge on a hammock outside a random store (Left Paw Store?) and watched the sun set together for the first time. I remember looking to the left of us and saw an old couple, they were probably well into their 60’s, I then looked at you hoped to share tens of thousands of sunsets in your arms. Wishful thinking.
After sunset, we were off to dinner. You did not reserve a table, so we were left to wait for a good hour or so—it was a night of a school dance; lucky us. I didn’t mind the wait. Having you near me was enough to keep me entertained for a lifetime. When our buzzer finally sounded, I could have sworn you flew across the parking lot, I followed as fast as my tiny feet could take me. You opened doors, pulled out my chairs, and even placed food on my plates every time you had the chance. I was spoiled. Thank you.
When dinner was over you took me back to Tierrasanta for some Starbucks. We sat in your neighborhood talking about what the odd things we could do—like write upside down and backwards without rotating the paper. Over hot white chocolate macchiato, I got to know you—this later became our thing. Trips to Starbucks to talk, when it we needed to talk or to just simply wind down and bask in each other’s company. For the record, it is the only drink I will purchase at a Starbucks. The memories we’ve shared over this warm beverage is enough for me to associate it with a heart warming therapeutic effect, a getaway when I’m feeling down. For this, I am also thankful. I digress.
We ended the night at Mt.Soledad. I knew you wanted to show me the world, as I was young and inexperienced, and here I was able to see San Diego—a 360 degree view of our breathtaking city. We sat on every bench on that hill that night. While we cozied on the bench facing the ocean, I stared into the heavens and thanked Him for the opportunity to be able to spend a day such as this with you, in your arms.
You ended the night by taking me home and placing a kiss on my forehead. I knew right then and there that you weren’t like every other guy. You are my first love.
Jonathan, thank you. Thank you for showering me with unconditional love and support. For teaching me that love knows no distance. It has no boundaries and it is a two-way street. It is because of you I know what it means to compromise and sacrifice. It is also because of you that I know how to love. And that also means having the ability to let go for the better. Thank you. I love you. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, forever and a day I will love you. Always.
P.S Come home safely from Afghanistan, soldier. That’s an order.
by madeinmay