It's been three months. The days go by, thoughts of her creep into my head: her laugh, her eyes, her smile. Not a day passes where I don't feel sick to my stomach, aching for the one I had loved so dear. Why her? Why me? Why must fate be so cruel?
I can no longer close my eyes, for it is too painful to deal with the hurt of seeing her youthful and oh so beautiful face. I smile as I remember the times we had spent together, picnicking in the park, walking on the beach, the adventures we had shared. In these moments, however brief, I am truly once again happy.
In this memory, we are sitting at an outside table at our favorite café, Iris, in our favorite part of the city. It was a sunny day in the middle of April. Everything seemed so normal and bright. What could have possibly gone wrong?
We were enjoying our time together, savoring both the coffee and one of the rare moments when one of us was not being whisked away, far out of the other's reach.
I remember it vividly. We were discussing our plans for the future. We had only been together for 15 months, but I could tell, she was the one for me.
She had mentioned wanting to move to Los Angeles, to fulfill her dream of becoming a director.
"Los Angeles? As in leave New York?" I was born here. I grew up here. I couldn't leave my home.
"Come on! I'm sure you'd love in California. They have amazing opportunities for you there too."
It was true. Unlike my sometimes-overenthusiastic partner, I wished to become a chef, and to someday open up my own restaurant.
"I don't know. I mean, I can't imagine leaving this place. New York is where I've been my entire life, I don't think I'd be able to cope..."
By now, she had stopped listening to me. I could tell by the glassed over look in her eyes.
I took the last sip of my coffee. I stood up, a clear sign I was ready to leave. She looked up at me, a smirk at the corner of her mouth.
"You go on, I'll meet you at the house, okay?" she told me as I shrugged on my jacket.
"Okay, I'll see you in a bit." I leaned down to kiss her, as I always did. Contently, she met my lips. She tasted of her coffee, like sugar and cinnamon, sweet just like her.
I straightened up. About to walk away, she grabbed my arm.
"I love you."
The "three words." When we are younger we learn the phrase pertains to everyone we know. As we grow, we learn it describes how we feel towards those we feel and care for. Now, I have come to learn the true meaning of the phrase: this moment, here, right now. Standing outside our favorite café in our favorite part of the city on a sunny day in the middle of April, looking at the one I love.
"Yes," was all I could say.
I gave her a quick kiss before walking away and begin making my way down the street. I turned back just for a second to catch a last glimpse of her. She was still smiling, looking as beautiful and alive as ever. I turned back. That was the last time I saw her.
