We moved in together for two years, but we broke up. I was actually attracted to this guy, and he rejected all of my friendships and invitations to join my inner circle. I’m thirty-one, married for ten years, with two children. I don’t know that I’m unloved. When I think about it, I think I’ve relegated the idea of falling in love to B-movies, romance magazines, teenagers, and women who paint their toenails red. , he sat in my red chair and told me he’d love me, die for me, jump over the moon for me, and dig up whalebones from the bottom of the sea. I think this man is crazy, and maybe I’m the last rational thinker on earth. He repeated the details of our conversation back to me, telling me what I was wearing, or that we were standing in front of a restaurant window without saying anything, or sitting in a museum.
The quality of the light in the room slowly began to change.
Pink, I swear it turned pink, and I fell. I remembered others. There’s a Gatsby of sorts walking around my house. I’m a romantic, yes, but I’m in denial. If he kissed me, the spell would probably break right away. Instead, there’s a waterfall of words, and I’m a poet, so words are enough. But still, I didn’t say anything. I was staring like a deer, mesmerized and hypnotized by the headlights of an oncoming Mack truck. Hearing him say he would be there for me when my friends left me scared me.
I think I smiled and said out loud that he should go.
I told him I wouldn’t be in his shoes. I couldn’t move or speak, but I felt romantic feelings welling up inside me. She says Daisy is a fool and that only a fool would say no to the kind of love that entered the room today. What if it’s a lie? I asked. She said I’ve never heard anyone put it so beautifully. I felt the “yes” deep inside me and all the happiness flew away. I knew at that moment that I didn’t have to chase him down, answer his call, or call him the next day. It already happened. This is so hard. When I saw him again, this was the look on his face: Friends grow apart. A few people turned away, but he was the one who stood by me, and even ten years later, he still amazes me.
Glenn and I met when I worked at the college newspaper.
I was very conservative at that point in my life. We spent the entire semester eating lunch in student groups, looking at everyone around us but not looking at anyone else. We are so indifferent. He called me once to invite me to go skydiving. He asked in a very roundabout way. I hung up, thinking I was inviting myself. One night, as we were getting out of the car, he gently touched me. I told my sister, “I think he touched me, but I’m not sure.” I have no plans to share this with Glenn. We continue this strange ritual of limited but enduring acquaintance. I started waking up in the middle of the night. I sat up until morning and wrote with scant efficiency.
Glen shares his thoughts for the first time.
I often imagine being stronger after this. Still, the reality of what happened is nuanced. I can’t find the right words to describe the strangeness and intensity of our being together. I don’t know why it took so long. Neither of us was each other’s first love, so I can’t blame him for being completely shy. Looking back, it seems like we persevered and reached a stage in the development of a relationship that, eight years later, is still one of the joys and confusions of our lives. A powerful and unusual place. He left the house without a word, and no one heard from him for twenty-four hours. Yeah. I had to pull over to the side of the road. He’s dead.
I already know.
He’s dead. I couldn’t help but cry and went to her house. time. I lay under the table like a dog and pushed myself into the corner of the room. I didn’t care at all. I felt like two sharp faces were pulling me from the inside out. Tears do nothing to ease the pain. The hardest time of my life. Was it because of something I did or didn’t do? I asked him the same question. No answer. I was completely devastated. I need love, time, and healing.
