Single In New York...

J and I met a few days ago to catch up some more. We had seen each other at the graduation party and chatted a bit, but didn’t really get to talk so much.

Thursday night I had been itching for a break after spending the last four days with my father. Just as I was dreaming of what the sun would feel like on my face, while I sat cold in a hospital, my cell phone rang. It was J.

“Do you have time to get away for a little while?”
“Your timing couldn’t be more perfect!”

So he picked me up and we went to the Shrine. “You want to climb the rock and sit at the statues feet? For old time’s sakes?” He’d asked. I smiled at him, and started climbing without saying a word. And he climbed right beside me.

As we sat the foot of a stone statue some 20 feet taller than I and some 20 feet off of the ground, J put his arm around me as we sat Indian style next to each other.

“Want to play a game?”
I just looked at him. One eyebrow raised and half a smirk on my face. “What kind of game are we talking?”
“One of your favorites. We used to play this all the time.”
“Small words?” I asked. He smiled. “You start.” I said.

[This a game we used to play when we were dating and going through a rough patch. When we would fight a lot, this always helped. We would each just say short words and short sentences, which made it harder to be mean. And it ALWAYS put a smile on our faces.]

J – “You’ve changed.”
D – “I’m ever changing.”
J – “I like it.”
D – “What?”
J – “The new you.”
D – “I miss this.”
J – “Me too.”
D – “I love you.”
J – “I love you too.”
D – “IN love with you.”

He didn’t say anything.

D – “Always have been.”
D – “Always will be.”

He just looked at me.

D – “I’m sorry.”
J – “Don’t be.”

And we sat in silence for a few hours together watching the sun set over the tree tops. He just held me and didn’t say a word. And then he took me home where he hugged me tight, kissed my forehead, said good night, said he loved me, and said he’d call me later.

Which he did. He asked me if I wanted to go to the beach with him that night to talk some more. But I was tired and knew that I still had things to do for my father the next day and needed to be in the best shape I could be to take care of him. So I declined.

So things didn’t turn out the way I would have liked. But I tried. And that’s a lot. Especially for me. (Remember my previous post? “Hi! My name is… Coward!”) I still love him. And I still always will. And it still hurts. And it might forever. But that was a risk I had to take.