wait for me

falling, flying.

Finally, I thought as my mother and grandparents walked out of my dorm room, leaving me to start my life on my own just over a thousand or so miles from my home in New York. I needed a fresh start after my brutal high school life.

I never drank much, went to parties, anything like that. Now I was at one of the biggest party schools in the country. A new start, a new chapter of my life, and I was going to do it differently this time.

I lived my whole life with a sick dad. He didn't have cancer, so it wasn't actively killing him, but he did have Multiple Sclerosis, a neurological disease. There was never a time where I wasnt accompanying him to doctors visits, hospitalizations, or him not being present for her accomplishments. This was her normal, until I watched everyone else have their dad there as I stood alone. It was such a huge void knowing he wanted to be there, but he simply couldn't. I had grown away from him, pushing away his diminishing health. I watched my friends' fathers attend soccer games, graduation, and do everything for them. But I couldn't be upset, because her parents aren't divorced, and I still do have a father, so I should have just been grateful. Yet that didn't make it hurt any less. When I go off to college, I am left trying to fill this endless void of not having a man in her life to help her navigate through moving into her first apartment, or someone checking on her. I bury herself in meaningless relationships in fear of being unlovable to avoid her pain. I was angry at the world, and did not understand why her dad just had to be sick sinceIwas not yet old enough to say a word. I didn't think it could get any worse, until it did. When I had to imagine what it would feel like if I had to walk down the aisle alone, if at all. When I broke down fully for the first time because I got to stop being an adult for a second and got to feel it all.
I didn't resent my dad, but I did wish he was here. My mind knew that he couldn't help it, and that he wanted to be there for me, but another part of me couldn't just accept that without feeling like something was missing. I felt so out of control with him being sick my whole life. I felt some sense of guilt for leaving him home with my younger brother in his senior year, and my mother working to support us, but she insisted I go and not let up the opportunity of my dream school.

I made the varsity soccer team my freshman year. This wasn't much of an accomplishment considering our high school was in the lowest division for sports, but I was excited. I was a starting forward which deemed me a decent amount of attention from some of the players on the boys varsity team, but none of them were him. His name was Tate and he was the captain. He was a Junior, a popular one, and every girl on my team was obsessed with him so I wasn't surprised at the fact that he gave me almost no attention. All the girls on her team would beam about him and brag about their small victories like a text back, or a simple head nod. I barely knew but his name echoing around the small town and people were naming him a player. He wasn't super tall, but not quite short either. He had tan skin, somewhere between white and a deep brown, and a chiseled face with a sharp jawline and high cheekbones. He had a cheeky laugh that made you smile at the sound of it. He had dark curly hair and always wore unique colorful shorts tied with fitted T-shirts that showed his athletic build. He had a ripped six pack that came naturally, with smaller legs, kinda the way that people are just naturally pretty muscular and accumulate muscle easier than others. He once asked me if I scored in the game and I almost couldn't form a sentence. That was probably the extent of our communication. The following year he graduated high school and committed to the University of Miami, one of the biggest party schools. Noted. I was dating not the captain of his soccer team, but a Junior who played goalie for the JV team. I was shy, and most definitely a late bloomer, so that was the best I could do at the time. Senior year rolled around and after numerous times of catching him cheating, he insisted I stay home for college. Me being my stubborn self, I sent in applications to the furthest colleges possible, for one the University of Miami, which became my top choice. To my surprise, I was admitted. I visited the school to see it in person and fell in love. Over the summer he came home and I ran into him at a party. From then on our communication increased steadily anticipating my upcoming move-in.