september

I could do anything with you. I could hike to the top of the water falls, and sit right above where the water came cascading down. And we could talk about life, the world, the future. I could listen to you read for hours, the pitch of your voice rising and falling with each stanza. I could fall asleep cradled in your arms, content.

And then there were the things I never thought I could do. I could break the lock on the new house being built down your street and tag the walls with environmental bullshit about trees. I could sit while you smoked cigarettes outside my house and my mother cried inside. I could make love to you while your parents talked to you through your door. But I guess it wasn’t really love. You thought you loved me, but that’s one thing I couldn’t do. I knew I couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t love you.

I loved the idea of you—and you loved the idea of me. You’re so fucking chill, I love you, you told me. That’s all. Just chill. I hope now you can love her for who she is. But here is the one thing I learned from you: Be fearless. Be fearless—because after you I never wanted to encounter love again. You made me want to be alone for a very long time. After the mistakes I had made, and my relationship with you, I had no trust in anyone. I didn’t think I deserved any good in the world, and so I shied away from it. I went to the clubs and I danced too close with men whose names I didn’t know, or couldn’t pronounce. I went to parties and drank too much wine. I didn’t spend time with my family—I didn’t want them to see me like this. I hated myself, and I didn’t want them to hate me too.

And then, when I thought I would go crazy before anything else, I met him. And for some reason, I took a step, and reminded him of who I was. I told him my name. He didn’t recognize me, it had been too long, but we made plans to hang out. I think we both went home that night realizing we knew nothing about each other. I knew his name, where he worked. I knew we used to have the same friends. I knew our paths used to cross, occasionally. That was it.

And somehow, we sat across from each other, and I felt connected to him. I felt like I could talk to him for hours, and right away I wanted to make him laugh. We went to the park and talked for hours in the dark until he kissed me. And the whole time before he first leaned forward and pulled me into his lap, I was trying to find the courage to do the same.

I realized long before the evening on the balcony, when we finally were able to put the feeling into words, that I had found true love in the most unexpected person. He makes me want to be a better person, the best person I can be. And I think I will be too, because for some reason, our paths crossed when they were supposed to. When we both had been hurt and weren’t looking for love. We both arrived at the restaurant that first night without any preconceptions, maybe only expecting a goofy, awkward dinner with somewhat of an old friend. But for some reason, this was meant to be.