And Just Like That *snaps finger* She's Gone

All the signs were there. The picture of us making the funny faces was no longer her cell phone wallpaper. She barely reached for my hand while we walked side by side like she use to. And the good morning texts were far between. To say that I was surprised by her decision to leave me would be a lie. I saw it coming. I guess I just really hoped that I was wrong.

A few weeks prior, during a casual phone conversation she says, “I’m tired. I’m going to bed. Love you.” I remember the world stopping dead in its tracks. It felt like all eyes were on me and my reply. You see, that was the first time she ever said that to me. So I took a quick moment to go through my usual options in case a girl springs those words on me. (a) hang up the phone and blame it on bad reception (b) run away screaming "bears, bears! millions of bears!" and never look back. (c) drop into a fetal position with my comfort item rubbing against my nose while repeating the phrase “you’re a big strong boy” over and over again. All, for your information, have served me well in the past. Everyone, you can imagine, were at the edge of there seats, as I’m sure you are now wondering what this boy, who was once happily lonely and fearful of commitment, was going to do next. I smiled. I chose (d) and took a deep breath, licking my lips in preparation for what I was about to say. But before I could get the first word out I hear, faintly through my phone, “I love you too. Good night.”…It was her mom...she was talking to her mom...

And the flash backs, like that one, kept coming as I sat in my truck, which feels ridiculously lonely now; the passenger seat which she once reside, now so useless. Her laughter, nothing more than an echo that I desperately try to grasp along with her smell. I still break out in a smile when I think of the times when she would front a tough act or when I catch a hint of a country accent in her speech. I reminded myself of an enormously wealthy young man who did not pay his taxes, scrambling from asset to asset in his home as the repo men did their work. My feet drag across the ground beneath me in a poor attempt to tug-a-war any part of her that I could. But these repo men, sadly, are too strong. Memories, I pray you don’t fail me now.

She left to be alone; to figure herself out without distractions; that or because of that fact that I have a comfort item that I rub on my nose when I feel lost in the world. I didn’t even put up a fight; didn’t offer to compromise; didn’t even ask if she would come back when she was ready. How could I? I spent the last 3 and a half years of my life alone; growing up and build a foundation for who I am today. How can I deny someone else that opportunity? I can’t. And I don’t.

I’ll never truly know what I would have replied to her during that phone conversation, but I know I wouldn’t have ran. Over a pity lunch from my close friend Cindy, I told her that I think I would have said “I love you” back. Cindy smiles and says, “I know. I see that love every time you talk about her.”

I’m a big strong boy. I’m a big strong boy….