July.
You can barely believe it. The year is officially halfway over. Your birthday looms on the horizon. A big one too. One that should mean you’re an adult with solid footing and life plans but you’ve been avoiding the thought of it for weeks. May turned to June and then June’s thirty days zoomed past in a blur of hazy nights and humid mornings.
And now it’s July, and it feels like you’re in the middle of an unending countdown. A countdown to not just the birthday you’re dreading, but for the return of your boyfriend.
As a child, you loved your birthday. It was the perfect date, July 20th. You were out of school, the weather was hot enough for swimming and ice cream. But this year feels different. There’s something missing.
Or someone.
You’ve only been together for four months but that hasn’t stopped Joji from becoming an integral part of your life. Several weeks ago when he’d come to your apartment with a somber face and a bottle of wine, you’d expected a break up talk, an “it’s not you it’s me,” a “you’re great but…” Except those words never came. Instead there were loud apologies and talks of a tour, halfway across the world.
“It’ll only be a few months,” He’d said without hint of a smile and at the time you gave a hopeful nod before kissing the tip of his nose.
“I know. It’s fine. I’m happy for you.”
Ever since then it felt like the two of you were cramming for something large, something that could make or break this relationship you wanted to keep so badly.
And that’s why you came out to the dock tonight. When you were younger and your brother was taunting you, it’s where you would hide. In your teenage years you’d camp out here with a book while your toes grazed the water, avoiding questions about college and lack of boyfriends. It’s been years since you’ve hidden out between the boats as a defense mechanism but now it feels safe. Right. Calm.
Those are the feelings you’ve been missing, you think to yourself, as you mindlessly unlock your phone and open the text strand marked with a J and a heart that hasn’t been active in days.
Calmness, a sense of correctness, that everything will be fine so long as Joji and you are together. That’s the feeling you’re craving. But you can’t conjure it out of thin air. The best you can do is read through the text thread with squinted eyes.
JOJI
I promise everything will be fine.
YOU
I didn’t say it wouldn’t be.
JOJI
You’re upset.
You hadn’t argued. He knew you well enough at this point to render anything but silent agreement unnecessary. You were upset. Not that he was out living his dream, but that you felt so incomplete without him here.
YOU
I’m being stupid. I love you.
It was the best you could come up with at the time - almost a go to response. Now with three days to look back on, you wish you’d said more, made him truly believe your words. Your feelings weren’t stupid but god, they sure felt that way sometimes. You’re still worried he’ll forget about you, that he’ll come back with some girl he met backstage at a concert.
But your text had prompted a phone call, a rushed one from the airport, where he swore up and down that you had nothing to worry about. Still… you worried. You still jumped every time your phone buzzed and spent hours daydreaming about Joji’s arm around your shoulder while your parents talked about old family vacations.
And now you’re here on the dock, staring at a screen that hasn’t changed in days.
It’s a beautiful day too. On the other side of the lake, flags are blowing slowly in the wind. People are on boats, children are splashing in the water. Your family is back on the other side of the house, grilling and laughing.
You fall back on the dock and close your eyes. It’s July. You’re surrounded by people who love you. You should be happy.
You will be happy.
After a moment you flip onto your stomach and press your palms against the old wood, slowly forcing yourself into an upright position.
It’s July and your birthday is coming up.
By the end of the month you’ll have been with Joji for five months. And at the end of summer, he’ll be back in your arms.
Really there’s nothing to be upset about.
Back by the grill, you force yourself to participate. You laugh at unfunny jokes and avoid racist uncles. You play with toddlers and light sparklers for your preteen cousins. You set the table and chop watermelon for fruit salad. You collect marshmallows and sticks for making s’mores later.
You ignore the weight of the phone in your pocket until sometime between a game of Apple to Apples and a late afternoon beer run, there’s a familiar buzzing, and without a second thought you reach into your pocket and unlock the screen. There’s two messages.
JOJI
I miss you.
JOJI
I love you.
Unconsciously your lips turn up in a smile. Your mother notices the calmness that washes over you. She’ll tease you about it later. But for now there’s no point.
It’s July. More than half the year is gone. You have a boy who misses you. A boy who loves you back. Your birthday is in 10 days and Joji is home in 60 days and you’re going to be just fine.
