Capturing You

Chapter 25: Point B

     I almost wanted to grab Joe's hand when he reached out for the hotel door, about to enter our sanctuary for the last time during this trip. It was hard to believe that it was over; it was only our third night sleeping next to each other and I thought that, after the whirlwind we'd been through lately, we both deserved more. The notion that Monday morning was just a couple of sleeps away, and that we would be back at headquarters, was almost painful. I longed to stay here, at home, forever. But if there was anything I'd learned about life in the last two decades, it was that all good things came to an end. I supposed I wanted to be selfish, just this once.

      Joe opened the door anyway without my protest, both of us turning in for the night after yet another delicious dinner. This time, we tried my favorite food, creole jambalaya at a local Cajun restaurant that I was relieved was still there in the last few years I was gone for college. Finishing off with a round of homemade beignets, he and I ate and talked until our stomachs and hearts were full, getting to know each other deeper with every conversation.

     I appreciated that Joe wanted to learn the ordinary stuff to me just about as much as he wanted to dig deeper. We both knew that at certain points, we needed to take breaks to sharpen our shovels and climb somewhere else. Like I had promised him, I brought him to places I considered special in and around Lake Charles; my high school, the library, my favorite spot for ice cream, where I worked. Fit in a couple of hours of shopping and meandering in between, our day had disappeared right before my very eyes before I even began counting down. I was reminded then of another adage my great grandfather lived by: "Time flies when you ain't watching it."

     But this trip made me all the more excited for the next opportunity I'd get to see parts of Joe's life. It was going to be his turn, after all, once we returned to Ohio, and I was going to be ready to tease him about high school just as he'd teased me. (Though there likely wasn't much to tease adolescent Joe about; something about that boy oozed perfection ever since childhood.) I wondered the sorts of things his mom and dad would say about him, if he had as rambunctious of cousins as I did, and where he loved to eat most or go shopping.

     Part of me felt selfish that this whole trip was mostly about me, given we were in my hometown and all — but the other part felt good about giving Joe a slice of something he hadn't had before. Maybe he was at a point where he was starting to grow sick of constantly being under a microscope and wanted something different. Fame, and doing countless interviews where you just talked about yourself, would make anyone tired of themselves so long as they weren't a narcissist. And Joe was not. From the moment we entered, out of all places, the library in Cincinnati, I knew there was something unequivocally down-to-earth about him that needed these moments of so-called mundane life to stay sane. Once I got over the initial shock of the source of my childhood and adolescence being so embarrassing, he actually made me think that it was all special in one way or another simply because it was the crux of an experience that belonged solely to me, no one else.

     Joe had a knack for making me feel seen. His thoughtfulness was a gift he'd given to the world, and I was lucky to be a recipient.

     I was one night closer to being able to see parts of Joe's life that I hadn't witnessed; I could just imagine the things I would say when meeting his family for the first time, maybe even getting to gawk at all of his high school trophies at school. There sure as hell was a lot of things in his hometown named after him that I bet it mirrored a museum, and I was excited to walk through the exhibit of his life. It was just a shame that I was also one night close to being away from him and having to face reality again. Something told me it would be a rocky start back to living normal life after all of this magic he and I had shared together in the last few days. Gosh... I'd never sounded so opportunistic.