The Definition of Time

Chapter 18

remembering hurts,
so distract me.
don't try to love me
don't try to romance me
just be my diversion
from this weary, weary world

July 31, 2014

"Two funnel cakes, please," Collin requests, passing the vendor a five dollar bill.

His arm wraps firmly around my waist, keeping me close to him. We've been hanging out, talking, dating, whatever you want to call it for a month now, and he fills me with constant exhilaration. He is a thrilling adventure, a chance to escape everything and experience life differently than I ever have.

Collin is nothing like any other guy I've liked. He's nothing like Josh. Though he treats me well, his heart is not kind. Though he's respectful, he lives a wild, thoughtless existence. Though he is open, he is not caught up in emotion and feeling. He goes after what he wants, and usually he gets it.

I like him, but I don't love him; I'm finding that is so much easier than truly caring about someone. There is no heartache. There is no soul-crushing worry. There is only vivacious furor, heart-pounding, chest-breaking thrill.

"Ready to eat?" Collin's voice breaks through my thoughts, and I grin up at him.

"Always."

Josh would have asked you what you were thinking. As I have been doing for the last two months, I dismiss thoughts of Josh.

We find a bench and I curl up on it next to him, my head resting on his shoulder as I inhale the delicious fried dough as quickly as possible. One of Collin's hands is draped across my leg, pulling me against him.

"What is this," he asks, "our fifth date?"

I nod, licking off a finger covered in powdered sugar. "People are gonna start thinking you like me or something."

He looks at me, grinning wickedly. "What, have I been that subtle?"

I snort, "You're about as subtle as a steam engine."

"Good," he whispers, his voice earthy. He leans closer to me and whispers, "I just wanted to make sure you know exactly how I feel."

My funnel cake is forgotten as he kisses me in the middle of the county fair, his hand resting on the back of my neck. I'm lost in the urgency of his kiss and have to pull away for a breath.

"I don't think you'd let me forget," I answer.

I try to ignore his use of the word feel. I'm afraid to consider the possibility that Collin actually likes me as more than a summer fling. This can't be anything more than it is now: casual, simple, easy.

Silence falls and I nestle closer against him, his arm now wrapped around my waist.

Finally, he says, "I have to leave for preseason in two weeks."

I break away from him and sit up straight, refusing to meet his eyes. I've been ignoring the future, denying its existence, and he is the last person I would have expected to bring it crashing down on me again.

"I don't want to talk about it."

He laughs and his rough palm catches my chin. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you might miss me when I leave."

Of course I will. The force of the thought surprises me--though I haven't been planning a future for the two of us, I don't want this to end. Especially not in two weeks.

I don't say anything, and he watches me intently, his gaze penetrating and ravenous.

"Things aren't just going to end when I leave," he finally says, and I turn to look at him.