S A R A

Ch 50

50

3 months later

I thought to myself, I couldn't let my life be define by my interactions with him.

And yet, there we were. As if everything between us was just a convey to get to each other. The in-between, though playing a role, meaning nothing. Us, everything.

It was Wednesday, which really meant it was 2 days away from FRIDAY. 2 days away from him {(?)[!]}

I couldn't really think straight when I tried to think about it. Sitting cross legged at the Brooklyn library, looking out into the city I was trying to put my thoughts down on a page in some sort of linear transition, but little made sense.

What I was feeling, was a visceral combination of pushing and pulling. I want it and I don't. Curiosity and fear, Desire and push back. Fire and ice.

And anyway, there was always the chance that he completely forgot about me practically not thinking about it at all or not like I am, going to great lengths at least in my mind.

How embarrassing this all was, to want something that was so far away out of reach.

Or was it?

Can't one feel these things? A certain intuition to the probability of an outcome.

I didn't know what to do. Should I somehow signal that I was here, ready and bushy tailed and wide eyed – waiting to be saved form my own self. Or do nothing, stay silent, wait to see if he will come for me. Or do nothing...get nothing.

There are no fortune tellers, no guidebooks no easy answer. And it seemed that I was trying to look everywhere except inside my own self.

I also wished I had friends in this city, the kind that I could tell these things to. Ever since I moved out here it seems that the more time passes by and the older we get the harder it is to meet people. Maybe – probably – this is all bullshit. But maybe this is also why I tend to get hung up on these, old relationships.

My options were self-explanatory, I could go and find a way to let him know that I was coming – going whatever. Maybe, saying that I want to go would allow for it to happen. Then, maybe reach out to him – send him a message. But my heart near drops when I think about getting back into the vicious cycle of the love game with him. And I wonder if I'm strong enough to take it again.

I know I know I know that the easier you take it the better it will be. And in fact, the time that passed, has made it slightly easier. Leaving time for any old wounds to heal, leaving just memories without the sharp pain that some of them caused. Now, this exhilaration, I don't know if its right. But it's also that sometimes I am fascinated by how since him, I haven't been able to meet someone who makes me feel like that and all that.

Maybe, my memory is playing on me and did I ever even really know him. What if it's so different now that it wouldn't matter anyway.

I don't want to ruin anything but that the same time sometimes that's what happens when you do nothing.

I held my breath and it took 7 false tries but on about the 8th I did it, bleep, I sent the message.

"Hey, how's it going? Wanted to see if you were going to your own afterparty?"

Ok, now breathe, I told myself as thoughts were running through my mind, thoughts flooding my mind of feelings and emotions and tastes and sounds captured in a memory long ago. ...But I was interrupted by the sudden onset of my phone lighting up.

Oh God, I thought, it's happening.

"Heyy"

"Yeahh, are you?"

I waited 10 minutes, staring at the screen, my eyes drying up and throat constricted but my heart full.

"Yess."

Later, after he messaged me again to ask me what time I was planning on coming, I deiced to actually take a nap during what would usually be a full-on sleep time. He was playing his show first, and obviously I couldn't be up there on stage with him (though I didn't not want to). That meant that I would be meeting him at...2:30am.

This is fine, I thought to myself. I can do this.

No turning back now.