“Do you remember who you were to me? Cause I do.”
- Jhene Aiko
Oh yes, It takes little effort for me to remember when I fell for the right person, at the wrong time. But for a long time, it felt like we were meant to be.
It all happened so fast; like a bolt of lighting to my heart; he came out of nowhere, and swept me off my feet. We were two strangers, from two different backgrounds. If anything, our similarities were only that we lived in the same city, and we were the same race. He was very tall, and I was very short. He was very social, and I didn’t like people. He had a great job, and made good money, and I was forever struggling. He lived life on the wild side, and I was stuck at work everyday. We did however share the same friend, whom we both knew for years. This friend became our matchmaker; and what a match she made.
I can still remember our first so-called “date”. It was at his place. Which is not a good way to start, and not like me to accept an invitation like that at all. But, I decided to live a little and give it a try. To this day, I am so glad I did, because it only took a few minutes for us to start an intimate conversation. He started to play a movie, but we didn’t watch much of it. The conversation got so deep, with so much enthusiasm, we couldn't even sit on the couch anymore. I know this is silly to say, but I began to feel so comfortable around him that I started to roam his apartment. I got extremely nosey and began to rummage through his kitchen, bathroom, washroom, etc. I guess this was my way of making him chase me to see if he was interested.
He followed me around his place as I made my sarcastic jokes about almost everything I touched. Roasting on him about how bare his fridge and pantry was of food. How his place was so big and nicely furnished, like a woman lived there. Asking him how he could afford such a nice apartment anyway. The questions became more and more constant as I was eager to get to know him. He wasn’t the kind of guy to just tell it all on the first date, so I had to nudge it out of him. I remember him telling me that he goes out to party and drink a lot. So of course, I naturally asked him, in a joking manner, if any girls lived there or have been there recently. He replied “no, I don’t bring girls to my place.” Which to me, was a total lie. A sexy bachelor like that, tall and fit, with tattoos to boot, was definitely having more fun than he let on. But I ignored it. I felt that he might tell me the truth one day, when he was ready. I mean, it’s not like there was evidence to prove otherwise. But of course, he could be a master at hiding things.
As the evening went on, we continued to talk and make jokes about each other; hardcore flirting. One person told the other a weird hobby they had, while the other one made fun of them, but still found it interesting at the same time. Time came and went as I looked at my phone to check the time, and I realized that 2 ½ hours had passed already. I couldn't believe it, I hadn’t had this great chemistry with a guy in years, and what blew my mind the most was that it felt so natural and true to be there with him, just talking.
After looking at the time, I started to get more comfortable and I decided to lay down on the couch far from him on the other side. I told him I had a long day at work, and I was exhausted. But while we were talking, he coincidentally got closer and closer to me out of nowhere. Very smooth. After a few minutes, he had his head on my lap laying down parallel to me. It didn’t even bother me, and I noticed that he did it so innocently and was very calm about it. I knew he was just as comfortable as I was. I laid my hand on his head and started to gently scratch his little brown hairs. After a while, he finally made a move. He lifted his head up and leaned in towards me to kiss me. And I promise you, I had never felt a kiss like that before. That was electric and calming at the same time. I can’t explain, but It was definitely a 10. After that, it was all over. He took me to his room, and we made fireworks in bed.
What really made me cling to him was the way we slept together after what felt like making love. I knew this was not going to be a one night stand. When we first slept together, he always held me close and never let go the whole night. He used to rub his cheek on mine and wrap his arms around me tight when we slept. Spooning was the norm for us. Every 30 minutes or so he would wake up and kiss me, just to make sure I was there. I remember how quiet it was in his room. All you could hear was the soft clicks from the fan turning above his bed, and sometimes he even played old school RnB music to fall asleep. Sometimes I would move far off to the other side of the bed in my sleep, but he would eventually grab me and pull me over, just to have me close.
He used to sleep so soundly and peacefully, even if he snored, it was too faint to hear clearly. I had never been a good sleeper, but I always envied people that were. I admit, I would often watch him sleep and rub his head, and kiss him on the nose. Sometimes I would even scratch and rub his back when he curled up to face the wall. He made me so comfortable that I always fell asleep almost instantly, every night. I could finally finish a dream or two which rarely happened at my own place. When I was with him, my heart was safe, my mind was clear, and my sleep was perfect. I started to go to his place more and more just to see him and get a good night's sleep. I used a lot of gas doing this since he lived 30 minutes away from me, but I didn’t care; it was worth it.
Sometimes we would just sleep, and that's it, whether it was day or night. I would even sleep over before work the next day and wake up, get dressed, and leave from there. It was almost like we were a couple, especially when he gave me a goodbye kiss every time I left. But sadly, nothing was ever talked about relationship wise. Which sometimes made me feel like I wasn’t really wanted, and that maybe he had someone else all along.
We became inseparable over time, and started to do more than just sleep together. We would go out to eat for lunch and dinner, and even see a movie or two when we had leisure time. I would see him sometimes when I went out to clubs or bars with my friends. Coincidentally, he and his friends would be at the same club I was in line for and he often got me and my friends for free. I thought because we spent most of our time together at his place in the evening, that he would deny knowing me so well in public. But I met his friends, and he met mine, and we would dance together the whole night when we went out.
Days became months, and months became 2 years. During this whole time, we were thick as thieves and know one could tell us otherwise. My friends could tell we looked happy together and that he made me feel safe and at ease. Even when we argued, which is something we did often, we got over the silly disagreement quickly and made up for it in bed or with sleep. I was often high on stress and worry from work and problems in my life, but he was always my stress reliever. When we were together, we were a team that radiated positivity and bliss. I felt closer to him mentally and physically than anyone else at the time. Even when we showered together he would wash my hair and body for me without me even asking. I knew he adored me, and I felt the same. Every few minutes we would hold each other in the shower and just let the hot water fall on us while we drifted into our own world of “US”. I loved the fact that we could do nothing together and still enjoy eachothers company. We could stay home and watch a movie and that would be enough. I often cooked dinner for him, which he loved, and we would just eat and watch TV; that was enough for us, we didn’t need much to keep us entertained.
Of course, nothing lasts forever and every fairytale has an ending. I should have known that what was happening was too good to be true. I guess in the end, I was right.
2 ½ years had passed since we had been together, and I was seeing no one else but him. Even though we lived a bit far from each other, I made sure I tried to see him when I could. You see, he was in college for his Master’s and he had a full-time job also, and I was working crazy retail hours, which didn’t give me much leeway to do what I wanted when I wanted. So meeting up became difficult around the holidays for me, and when it got closer to him graduating. We started to see each other less and less and I wondered why. One day, I thought about it, around my birthday in January I believe, that he once told me he wanted to move to another city when he graduated to make more money. I thought nothing of it at the time, but I hated myself for not thinking this moment would come. So, work got busier, and he got busier too. The text messages got to be slim, and the phone calls non-existent. I started to wonder if he was with someone else. I couldn’t blame him for doing so if he did, we were not an official couple, and he never spoke about being one either. But I was at fault myself since I didn’t talk about a relationship either. I was afraid it would turn him off and ruin our good chemistry.
February came around, and you know what that means, Valentine's Day. The one day of the year I could care less about and felt was meaningless. I told him this before, but I doubt he remembered. One night, I was leaving work, on February 13th, and I started to text him. I asked him if he missed me as I was walking to my car to leave. He said “yes”. That's it. I then asked him why he had been so distant now and rarely texted me. He said “I’ve been really busy. That's all.” Which I felt was a cop out from him. I was busy too, but I still found time to be with him, call him, and text him. So him telling me that was no excuse, and I felt like it was just a way to hide what was really going on. I started to feel a little scared and jealous at the same time. I didn’t want to lose him. I had known him a long time already, and I didn’t want it to be a waste. I paused for a few minutes and prepared myself for what I was about to say. I took a deep breath and gathered whatever bravery I could and sent him this text: “I know you have been really busy lately, but so have I. I really would like to see you more, I feel like you’re ignoring me and leaving me out in the dark. I miss you and I often lose sleep because of it. I stay up at night thinking of you until dawn. I think of you at work, when I eat, in the shower, in my dreams, and more. You make me feel safe and I miss that. Now, if you don’t feel that same, it’s ok. But It took a lot for me to say this, so there it is. I really like having you around. Do you feel the same?”
And just like that, the message sent. I remember staring at my phone waiting to get service in the parking garage to make sure it was sent, and when it did, I almost fainted. I was never very good at delivering my emotions to someone else unless I had to. I felt like a bomb just dropped in my stomach, I had major butterflies as I got in my car and left my phone in my seat to see him text me back with a response.
Well, I had butterflies all night, and the next day, and the next day. Because guess what? He never texted me back. He never called me back either. Nothing was said. Not one word. And it’s funny because our text messages were constant before I sent him that paragraph filled with my feelings. I became so enraged, but I didn’t call him or text him. I was going to wait for him to answer me, no matter what. It seems foolish to me now, but I was determined to leave him to it. We talked so easily before, what was different this time? Oh yes, I let my emotions get to me. I gave in and decided to let a guy know how I felt. Shame on me for thinking that was ok and the right thing to do when you feel like you are losing someone special. Shame on me for letting myself be happy for so long and never thinking about the consequences. I felt like a fool, and I hate myself for a long time because I could not get this guy out of my head. All I had was romantic and fun memories of us sleeping together, laughing together, and his smell. All of the sudden I missed his smell more than anything. He always smelled so fresh, and clean. UGH! It killed me for months to have him surround my thoughts and fill me with sorrow. I was miserable because I thought I lost the love of my life.
I never found out what happened to him or why he never texted me back. I just let it go after a while. But I still had feelings for him since we never had closure. All I knew was his name, but It's not like I was going to try and find him. I have too much pride for that. I did however write many poems about him since my heart was broken and I needed an outlet. This was one I wrote first when he left me:
“She never sleeps at night unless he's there. She doesn't stress or worry in his presence. All insecurities are non-existent when they are intimate. And time stands still when they share a kiss. They tell a story in each other's arms. Poems of love and desire, without saying a word. Just the rub of a cheek, a kiss on the nose, and hands intertwined. These two could start a novel. She thinks to herself "If this isn't natural chemistry, I don't know what is." Yet when they're apart, her phone doesn't ring with his name attached, and they only meet at night. So then she thinks "How can someone not know how to love, but know how to make it? Shouldn't love be shared with little effort, and be constant? I know love hurts, but is this the right kind of pain?"