11 June 2008

This thick, Alabama summer has been smothering me all week, and I really wish it would rain. Work has been work, school has been work and falling asleep alone has been work. A few months ago, I thought two months was an eternity, but now knowing El’s boxes will be arriving in a week and she will be arriving shortly thereafter makes me wonder how I survived for those two long, waiting months without tearing my hair out; a fortnight is an eternity.

I’ve been trying to pass the time by spending it with Dustin, and it’s always a blast to watch him checking out the ladies in the food court. He’s cute in a creepy, awkward way, listening to him ask for tips and tricks for approaching women. I never thought myself skilled at striking up conversations with women, but he takes all my advice as words from a higher power. Guess I’m some kind of sagely figure to him—poor kid.

Finally meeting El was a dream come true. It was a touch more awkward than I had imagined from spending months talking with her. When I first saw her, I was a wreck. My knees trembled, my arms shook and my words stuttered themselves constantly. I think the nerves were a culmination of quitting smoking and quitting being alone. Our first encounter was a far cry from what I had pictured—she was tired and disheveled from eighteen hours of traveling, her hair a fuzzy mess pressed under a cute hat, and I was a mess of nerves and emotions. Despite the complications, the first kiss was still perfect. As I held her in the terminal and spun her around, I knew that I could die right there and be completely fulfilled.

Conversation came easy, and all week long we joked and laughed and talked about everything we could think of. She was cuter as I had imagined (although quite a bit shorter), and was a brilliant conversationalist. Her wit was what impressed me most—she was much quicker than her internet counterpart could accurately portray, rolling with every punch and jumping into every joke and story I came up with. Brilliant girl, she.

As lame as it may seem, the best part of her being there was sleeping together. Not sex (as amazing as it was), mind you, but just falling asleep with her head against my chest, and her arms wrapped around me. I found myself falling asleep quicker and sleeping deeper than I ever have alone. The pillows I’ve been using since she left have been a poor substitute. If there’s one thing I miss most about her, it’s the way she would coo as she buried her face against my chest. Christ, how I miss it.

The best night I spent with her was in the mountains of eastern Virginia. We were heading back from Washington D.C., and it had been raining lightly all day long. She was curled up against me for most of the winding trip through the mountains as the windshield wipers thwacked and thumped to the rhythms of the radio, and everything felt so surreal. As night fell, the rain gave way to crystal-clear skies. Once the tent was pitched and the fire started, we just sat on a log, huddled next to each other and watching the stars.

The conversation started innocently enough, as I asked her what the best dream she had ever had was. As she thought, I looked up and saw the stars raining down across the sky. As we watched the meteor shower, lights screaming across the star-speckled sky, she leaned over to me and whispered in my ear, “This week.” As I kissed her clever lips, the moment was forever burned into my memory as the time I first realized that, even though it may seem ridiculous and foolhardy, I would, without a second though, give up everything I had to be with this woman. I didn’t share this with her verbally, but as I pulled away from her and saw the starlight shining wistfully in her beautiful eyes, she knew. She replied shortly with the most loving kiss I have ever had.

Hugging her goodbye was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and as I watched her walk through the security checkpoint and down the concourse turning back with tears in her eyes every few steps, I couldn’t help but cry openly in the middle of everyone. I felt as if every ounce of love I’ve ever had was ripped out and shoved in a third-class parcel headed across the world, never to be seen again. Knowing we had already bought her return ticket didn’t make it any easier to see her leave—I still felt emptier than I’ve ever before.

Two weeks: Shorter than a month but longer than an eternity. I can only hope that when she returns to me, she brings the rain with her, because this summer heat is eating me alive. Plus, how am I to kiss her in the midst of a summer storm if one never comes?