The Way It Used to Be

24

I knew when I set out walking for her house it was going to be hard. I knew it would rival her leaving. I knew it would rival me tearing myself out of her arms while she laid in my bed begging me to stay. I knew all of this, and yet, it was harder.

See her hopeful expression was going to be my undoing. Seeing her watch me for a clue or sign of what I was going to say to her was like watching a puppy in a shelter watch to see if you were going to pet it.

I knew I had to do this. It was better to just rip the bandaid off and get it over with, but I just kept walking, hoping it would feel easier with the next step.

I didn't even want to look at her. I was still very much in love with her. I wondered if I always would be. I wondered if I'd ever be able to wake up in the morning without thinking of her first. I wondered if I'd ever fall asleep without wondering what she was doing or if she was asleep too. I didn't know a life without her.

The more I talked, the more she cried. Before I knew it, I was crying, too. Crying because I was hurt. Crying because she was hurt. Crying because I so desperately wanted to halt everything and just tell her I still had her engagement ring in my nightstand and that I would marry her tomorrow if she'd let me. Crying because Jamie was so good to me, but she'd never be Beau. Crying because I knew I'd never hold Beau again or touch her or kiss her or see her eyes first thing in the morning when she's sleepy and looks like she doesn't know where she is.

When I pulled her to my chest, it was for me.  I'm sure it made things worse, but I needed to feel her one last time. I knew I could walk away from her and be a good husband to Jamie. I could spend the rest of my life pretending I didn't love Beau, even if I didn't know now that it would ever be true.

When I finally pulled away from her, I started walking toward the house. I had to consciously tell myself to keep going. Not to look back at her. I knew if I turned around now, I'd never be able to leave her again. So, I walked. One step at a time. All the way back to the house and up the stairs and into the shower.

I stepped out of my clothes as silent tears streamed down my face. It was over. Beau was over.

I turned on the hot water and sank down on the floor of the tub before the sobs set in, shaking my body and making my head and throat hurt. If I could survive today, tomorrow would be easier.

I thought of her face over and over. I thought of her in my bed begging me stay.

I thought of calling her and begging her to come over.

I love you, Beau. I love you. I love you.

I wish I didn't love you anymore.

Thanksgiving passed without much incident. Jamie and I left early on Thanksgiving morning to travel to her parents' house. We ate donuts and sipped coffee on the way, and I felt guilty for being grateful when she fell asleep. The wound of telling Beau I'd never want her again was still too raw and fresh for me to pretend to be happy. 

It's not that I wasn't happy to be with her. I was. I could close my eyes and imagine everything about our life together. I could imagine falling asleep next to her and raising kids with her. I could imagine the house I'd build her one day. It wasn't that I didn't love her. In truth, I loved her more than I knew how to admit. I loved her in a way that made me feel like I was somehow doing something wrong to Beau.  I knew it was ridiculous to feel that way. After all, I was the one that has chosen to completely end my relationship with Beau.

It didn't matter, though. I wondered while I drove if I'd ever get over her. I wondered if years from now while I was rocking on the porch with...

The minute the image transpired in my mind as two rocking chairs on a porch facing the sunset, I saw Beau.

I wondered if years from now I'd still see Beau.

Jamie stirred beside me, and I removed my hand from hers where the pair rested on her thigh to swap the media settings on her car from the radio to my phone.

As soon as I hit shuffle, a song by the Fray started playing. A song that no doubt was favorited two years ago by a girl I could no longer talk to. The song made me feel anxious and sick. Like I knew something bad was coming but I couldn't stop it. I turned the song off almost as soon as it started and drove in silence.

The rest of the weekend went smoothly. For the most part, I could push Beau out of my mind and focus on Jamie. I hunted with her dad and brothers. I passed around hugs to all of her grandparents. I talked football with her brothers.  It all seemed comfortable. We fell into a normalcy that I hadn't felt in two years. She was there when I called her name. There when I woke up. There when I went to sleep.

After Thanksgiving, Jack and I went back to work. I volunteered to go on extra jobs in other towns. The overtime was good pay, but it also kept me busy. I saw Jamie on the weekends and worked until I was exhausted and couldn't think. Every day without Beau got a little easier. It was a feeling that never went away, but I was like smoldering wood on a fire. As long as no one fueled me with air, I just glowed instead of burned.

I had to tell Jack to quit telling me about her. Hell, I had to tell him not to mention her name.  When he did, I just wanted to call her.  He still visited Verne often, and I knew he saw her daily. It seemed like he was spending more and more time over there. I didn't know if it was because he wanted to be there or because I was insufferable while coming down from my Beau high.

Days came and went. I laid in bed at night silently begging her to call. I knew if she called, I'd fold.

She didn't, though.  I had essentially told her not to, and she always listened.