Distance is an Issue

True story.

Distance is an Issue

 

 

“Do you have a problem with smoking?” You asked me.

   “I will never smoke in my life, but no, I don’t have a problem with it,” I said.

   “Ok.”

   “That was out of no where. Do you smoke?”

   You said yes. Usually, if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have cared at all. Since I care about you, I cried. I’m not sure why, but it’s a big deal to me. Maybe it’s because I thought you were better than that and I had higher expectations, but what I said next astonished me.

   “Does it really matter if I have a problem with it?”

   “I was just asking.”

   I let it go and said “Ok.” We began to flirt and I told you that it was unacceptable.

   “Why?” You asked.

   “Because you currently have a significant other. That is my reason,” I told you.

   “Not for long,” you said.

   “You can work it out,” I attempted to encourage you.

   “I don’t know. She’s so mad, you don’t even know.”

   “Well hug her and tell her you love her.”

   “I don’t think that’ll fix it. I’ve been hiding that I smoke so I’m going to tell her and see what happens,” you told me.

   “Oh my God!”

   “What?”

   “You can’t hide it! Just tell her. You guys will be okay,” I tried to help.

   “No, she hates it a lot. So she’ll probably dump me,” you told me.

   “Well, lets hope not,” I said blandly.

   “I’ll be sad but you can make me feel better.”

   “How?” I was confused to be honest.

   “I don’t know,” I guess you were, too.

   “Exactly. I mean, I want to�"I don’t know. You moved there and stuff. I’ll feel bad if you guys break up,” which was sort of a lie.

   “Eh, she annoys me. What do you mean by ‘I want to�"I don’t know’?” You caught me.

   “I want to be with you still. But you moved there and I wanted you to be happy with her so I feel bad that she’s mad at you or whatever,” which was the truth.

   You said “Oh,” and I agreed.

   “I feel like I want to be with you,” you said.

   “I don’t think you do,” I disagreed.

   “Why?”

   “You left to be with her,” I told you.

   “Well, I’m terribly sorry. You were an amazing girl friend.”

   “Not amazing enough, but it’s okay. Whatever makes you happy,” I told you.

   “Well you never cared what I did and always hung out with me no matter what. We lived so close together and I miss you.” I was so happy that you said this to me. You don’t understand. I miss you so much it hurts, literally and now you’re gone. Not only did you just move, you moved to be with someone else. That makes it ten times worse, and I didn’t think I could do anything about it. I still love you, even though you were in love with someone else and I had to stand by and watch you leave to be with her, I still care about you. I think what hurts the most is the fact that I care that much to let you go and be happy. I don’t quite understand it myself. It’s crazy.

   It’s so crazy I’m writing a book about it. “I miss you, too,” I said.

   “You were amazing and of course you were amazingly cute. I do miss you.”

   “I miss you a lot.”

   “Me too. Damn I am stupid. It’s like I’m literally retarded.”

   “Why?” I knew what the answer was going to be, but I asked anyways.

   “Cause I left you.”

   “You left me for someone you love. That’s not retarded.”

   “Well I’m not so sure it’s love anymore, and I might have given it up with you.”

   “What do you mean given it up with me?”

   “I don’t know. I might have given up love when I left you.”

   “That’s not your fault,” I told you.

   “Yeah, it is.”

   “Well, kind of. But you were just trying to be happy, right? That’s not wrong. That’s natural. I wouldn’t have stayed here anyways!”

   “I know you would have left me,” you were kidding.

   “I would never leave you. Ever,” I said.

   “Awe, I left you,” you said sadly.

   “It’s fine. You left me for happiness.”

   “But I didn’t find it because I had it with you.”

   “You wanted to go, though. I’m fine with that.”

   “I’m not.”

   “Well, we can’t do anything about it now.”

   “When I get my license I’ll drive up to see you and when I come up we will hang everyday,” you didn’t promise me, but it was good enough.

   “You should come see me during the summer around the fourth of July. I want to go to a carnival with you. Oh, and I want to go on a picnic. Let’s not forget canoeing.”

   “I’ll try.”

   “If you can’t, that’s fine.”

   “I want to. A picnic sounds nice, and a faire and canoeing.”

   “It’s funny, I never told you that I didn’t want you to leave or be with her. I just didn’t say anything. I just went along with whatever you did. I’m stupid, too.”

   “You should have told me to stay.”

   “I know. I just thought you’d be better off there. It seemed like you were completely in love.”

   “I know, sorry.”

   “You did nothing wrong.”

   “Well, I miss you.”

   “Miss you, too,” I said.

Author's Note

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