The night before, we lay in my bed, snuggled up against each other in the kind of way you only get when you aren't trying. We'd sort of accidentally ended up so comfortable, and both of us relaxed into the closeness, willingly powerless to change our state. My head on your chest, one leg thrown over your thighs, I trailed my fingers along your chest and up and down your arms, tracing your tattoos and feeling your skin under my fingers. You ran your fingers through my hair and gently traced lines down my neck and onto my shoulders, with your other arm wrapped around my back. Your fingers traced the contours of my face, across my forehead, my cheekbone, and down my jawline. You kissed my forehead so softly and let your lips linger, as if the length of the kiss directly correlated to the intensity of the moment. Joining in the face-tracing, I fell mesmerized as I ran my fingers along the outlines of your face, secretly memorizing the feel of your skin under my fingers. The line of your strong jaw, the feel of your stubble, the soft skin around your eyes, the shape of your lips.
Bliss - this was absolute bliss. I can honestly say that I've never felt closer to someone than I felt lying with you. The connection we had was so intimate and so intense, and I know you felt it too. We found something rare, and we both knew this was important.
I don't remember falling asleep, but I remember waking in the morning to the overwhelming sense that I couldn't let you leave my life. We'd ended up on opposite sides of the bed, and I turned over to find you with your back facing me. Motionless, completely swept away in the emotions rolling through me, I daydreamed about what life would be like with you here permanently. I read and reread the tattoo on your back, admiring the line work of the letters and wondering where you were in life when you got it.
Give me the will to fight,
the power to give salvation,
and the courage to endure this Hell.
Pulling myself away from my fixation on your sleeping form, I moved to the kitchen to make you breakfast. I was so stressed about doing a good job, because in true gender-role sexist form, I wanted you to think I could take care of you. My pancakes were super fluffy (go me), but also super gooey on the inside (fail). I have no idea what I did wrong, but at least my scrambled eggs and vegan sausage came out as expected. I woke you up, and we went into the kitchen to eat.
I was so nervous being with you in the light of day again - I felt shy and vulnerable after the emotions I experienced the night before. Trying to lighten the mood, I sat on the counter to eat and warned you that the pancakes were not really cooked all the way through. You said, "They taste good, babe! Kinda mushy, but good!" You're the best...they were really gross.
After breakfast, you insisted on washing the dishes. Grabbing a towel, I sat on the counter next to you to dry them. It took us 45 minutes to get through a sinkful of dishes, mostly because you scrub more thoroughly than any other human on Earth. My dishes have never been cleaner. You did most of the talking, and most of it revolved around your upcoming orders to Okinawa and your time spent in Camp Pendleton. I had no problems listening and enjoying the simplicity of your company.
When the topic turned to you and I, you told me something along the lines of:
"I hope you know how things would be different if I were staying. They would be different even if I were in stationed at Camp Pendleton. I would want you to be my girlfriend. But it's unfair of me to ask you to wait for me for 2 years while I'm in Oki, and it'd be unfair for you to ask me to wait, too. We just don't know what's going to happen, but I do know that I want to keep in touch with you while I'm gone."
Of course, I agreed, both verbally and internally. Even despite the strong emotions of the night before, I knew that asking each other to wait for a future would be pointless endeavor. We could promise anything we wanted, and it wouldn't guarantee a future. I said as much to you, and I reiterated that I felt that labels were empty promises.
Much of the rest of the day was spent in silence. We watched my favorite movie, Closer, and laying with you on the couch, I felt like I'd known you my whole life. I felt simultaneously suspended in time with you, and like we were racing towards a culmination. The hours were flying by towards 5pm, which was our previously agreed upon time for your departure. You were flying to Oceanside the next afternoon, and I wanted to make sure I didn't steal any more time away from your parents. Around 4:45, as I lay on top of you on my bed, I started crying. I didn't expect to cry, and I think I surprised you as much as I surprised myself. Feeling foolish, I left the room to escape the intensity. When I came back, it flooded over me again. I told you that I didn't cry often, but that I was just sad to see you go. You assured me that we would keep in touch, and that this wasn't goodbye. When my emotions wouldn't get themselves in check, you said, "Come on, let's get out of the house and go somewhere." "No," I said. "You have an hour drive to Spanish Fork, and I can't take anymore of your time. Let's just leave the house at the same time, and I'll go somewhere to distract myself."
On the way out, I made sure you said goodbye to Sunny, who I called Grandma Dog the entire time you were here. You had told me she was your favorite. She might not be alive by the time you return from Okinawa, and I wanted to know you said a proper goodbye. We went out to your huge white truck, and the panic started to set in. You told me it needed to warm up before you could go, and I took irrational relief in the fact that I'd have a few more minutes with you. You rummaged around in your backseat for something to give me, and all you could find was an orange stuffed bunny that someone else had won for their girlfriend. I didn't care - you were giving it to me, and it was mine. We kissed a couple of times, and I could hear your heart pounding so fast in your chest. I said as much to you, and you said simply, "I know." Ever the brave one, you were the one to tell me goodbye, and I played it cool as you got in your truck and shut your door. I mindlessly walked to my car and got in, slowly backing out of the driveway. You followed me down the street, and out onto the main road. I wasn't going to cry. It wasn't going to happen. I could be strong, I could do this. You weren't even my boyfriend.
We reach a stoplight (red light kisses!) and you pull up next to me. I look over to you, not knowing what to do, but frantically memorizing the way you looked. You're strong, handsome, and hands down the sexiest man I know. I felt so lucky. You pointed to yourself, made a heart over your chest, and pointed at me. Completely overwhelmed with emotion and the realization that what you just signed to me might actually be true for me, I just blew you a kiss. As we drove onward, you reached the street where you needed to turn to get to the freeway. You waved goodbye to me and turned. I drove through the intersection and looked at your receding form, thinking that the back of your head was the last I'd see of you for two years. Of course, this wouldn't prove true, but more on that later.
I drove to Target, unsure where else to go. I hadn't started crying yet, and I mindlessly milled around, looking for something engaging. I ended up in the nail polish aisle (of course), and I stared vacantly at the colors for several minutes before deciding to just leave. Was I really planning on buying nail polish? I walked to the cash register area and stood in line behind a couple buying clothes and cleaning supplies. Around the time that they were paying, it occurred to me that I was standing in line with nothing to buy. They had already noticed this and my zombie appearance and were giving me the strangest look. Embarrassed, I collected my movements, picked my heart up off the floor, and made to leave. Oh, snaps...it was my cousin and her boyfriend. No way could I face them right now. I looked them straight in the eye and just walked past. All I could think of was how someone who could be the love of my life just drove away from me.
I don't remember what I did the rest of that night, but I know it involved a lot of crying. I wanted nothing more than to be your girlfriend and to have a life with you. This would NOT be the end of us. It couldn't be.
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