I had to say goodbye to two people today, and neither one was a particularly happy parting.
To start my day, I helped Lisa move out from her place. She's been living a fair distance from everybody else, and had spent a lot of time in the last few months at her boyfriend's place, which is very near mine. As we threw around the boxes of her belongings, it really sunk in that I was about to say goodbye to her, one of my best friends, for another four months.
The move out took most of the early afternoon, then we decided to have one last lunch and walk around in the sun. As we neared her place, I got a bit of a lump in my throat; here we were, about to separate for another summer. The promises of phone calls and streams of e-mails often get forgotten with us. She lives on the West Coast; a different time zone, a different group of friends. Not that we forget each other, it just becomes difficult to stay in as close contact as we do at school.
There was a brief hug and a 'see you soon', and I mentioned I may try and come out to visit this summer (possibly my last opportunity, if she moves to Toronto permanently after graduating). And with that, I had said goodbye to another constant in my life.
What is most frustrating in life as a student is the constant changes in one's life. I would argue this a lot different than the 'change is good' type of constant change that so many seek in order to spice up their lives. As a student, every four months of my life mean a complete upset in my timetable and even location. While the variety can be fun, it makes moments like loosing friends to summer vacation irritating.
I had made plans to see Latin Boy after the move, something I was looking forward to. We haven't seen each other for about a week, due to scheduling, but were both wide open Sunday afternoon. As we fell into each others arms, it felt so nice to have been missed, and to miss him. One thing led to another, and clothes started to come off, and we were lying in a panting heap on his bed.
He dozed, but I stared up at the ceiling. I hadn't really realized that summer was now here, and that my planned move back home was imminent. It was, as I have said before, a fact that I happily ignored; it was going on in one part of my life, but seemed to have been forgotten in others.
The lump in my throat returned, as he quietly blew air across my chest. I could do two things at this point: forget my problems and just enjoy the evening, or have the discussion I had been dreading for days. But, as uncomfortable as I was, I couldn't simply shrug it off and pretend that everything was going along perfectly.
After a few moments, he woke and kissed me. And I said it, I think for the first time in my life.
"Can we talk about something?"
He looked at me and sleepily nodded.
For a moment my voice caught, but I pushed forward. I told him about my summer plans, about moving away. I told him he was an unplanned but happy development, something that was really unexpected just a few weeks ago. Something that couldn't have come at a more awkward time.
He listened through all of this, as I went on about the problem. I felt it was unfair to be the guy who visited on random weekends, or once a month, or maybe never, and expect him to still be around and interested. "That's just not something I'm looking for, something I want to be," I said.
As we lay there naked, I felt an added sense of vulnerability. We sat in silence, his arms still draped across my stomach.
"You have to say something," I said, looking into his eyes. He looked hurt, but not angry or resentful.
Finally, he spoke. He said very little, just that he understood why I was having this conversation, that our schedules for the next few months would rarely sync, and that it was too early for us to seriously consider spending the summer apart without seeing each other.
But, he then talked about how he hoped I wouldn't disappear, and about the possibility of picking things up in September, "If you want."
I tried to talk around that point, as I want no promises made about reconnecting come fall. The whole point of the conversation was to avoid the situation of being 'together' yet being apart for an entire season, much less promising to be waiting at the other end.
If he had gotten mad, or upset, it would have been easier. But the entire time he lay there, holding my hand, and nodding along. I'm still amazed at how he could take the positive away from it - that we had met completely randomly, unexpectedly discovering we had a spark, and had enjoyed a few weeks of each other's company.
He then launched into a bit of a lengthy speech about how amazing he thinks I am; everything inside and out was commented on. He thanked me for teaching him about Canadians, showing him that we can be loving and open.
"See, this is where I wish you were a Canadian boy. You'd have thrown me out by now, then tossed my clothes out behind me," I said, trying to lighten the situation. It was harder to have him tell me how great I was than to hear how much of an asshole I was.
We were still lying on his bed when I ran out of things to say. The facts were on the table, and while neither of us has said things were 'over', there was a pretty clear understanding that this would be the last time we saw each other for a long while.
He told me he was happier to have spent the time with me than to have gone without ever knowing me, and that he still felt a lot for me and probably would. I'm apparently special enough that I'll always have an opening, at least for a while.
"I'm not going to disappear," I assured him, after he asked if we could still stay in touch.
We were still lying there, now in complete silence. I felt so uncomfortable, being held by the guy I just told I wouldn't be dating any more. But still, he held me, and I limply embraced him back. He kissed me, and I weakly kissed back.
"I think I'm going to go," I said. This drew his first notes of protest, finally.
"Why?" he said, hurt. "You don't have to. Why leave?"
"Because, this feels really hard for me, to sit here and tell you we can't do this any more, and still be sitting here," I said.
"Oh, and you don't think this is hard for me?" he demanded, becoming defensive.
I nodded as I pulled my shirt over my head. "Of course, I understand. I just feel awkward."
Slowly, silently, we dressed. He opened his blinds, slid his window shut. I checked my hair in his mirror, felt my pockets for keys and my phone. Bending over, I picked my watch up from the floor beside his bed.
As we reached is apartment door, I noticed he had his jacket in his hand.
"Going somewhere?" I asked.
"I want to walk," he said, putting on sunglasses and opening the door.
We moved in silence to the elevator, waited for it to come, and rode down. About halfway, he leaned his body into mine, and kissed me once more. I made sure this was our goodbye kiss.
"I'm sorry," I offered.
"No...no," he said, shaking his head.
By now we had reached the street. We stood there looking at each other, me wishing he was yelling and throwing things at me, him with his eyes hidden behind dark glasses.
"Can we hug?" he asked, moving his arm.
"Of course," I said, and pulled him in. "I'm sorry," I whispered again.
A moment later, we let go. My hand traveled down his arm, then grazed his palm, then fell away. I turned and, with a small wave, left him alone on the curb.
I'm still pretty surprised that it happened, but I felt so guilty sitting there, knowing that we had to have the conversation sooner or later. And it was more difficult to hear him say how happy he was with me, rather than have him turn on me in anger.
And so it goes, another failed relationship, at my hallmark one-month deathtrap. Another guy who, though no bad feelings were exchanged, has now been removed from my life. Another night where I sit here and realize that I am once again alone.
Pretty sad, for the guy who professes to genuinely want a long-term relationship, that he seems to be unable to ever have one. Not that I really felt Latin Boy was going to turn into Latin Boyfriend, but still, another slap in the face, a reminder that no matter what I do, I never seem to find the right guy that just makes me happy, that I finally just get to be with. That I get to ride off into the sunset with.
I can't help but wonder how long it will be until I actually find him.
4 comments:
I can sympathise entirely because I think I'm going to find myself in a similar situation in a month or two's time... Only in my version, it's me that's going to be Latin Boy... :(
Why do you feel the obligation to tell Latin Boy (how did I miss out on him.......I'm very faithful reading your blog) anything. I assume he knows that you are a student and the possibility of you living somewhere else than Toronto had to register with him. You are being to hard on him and yourself. You made a lovely evening awkward. You could have simply told him that you were moving back to the country for the summer and looked forward to seeing and being with him again once school started back up. Then it would have been up to him and you if you wanted to reconnect. It doesn't appear that you had much time left of school for the term when you met.
Is there a possibility that you want to explore more than a short tryst with him......if so let him know.
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