Stay. Don’t go. That’s all I wanted to hear. We met for dinner one last time before I planned to leave. We met at our favorite pizza place. A place we’d been probably a hundred times before. A place I haven’t been since. All I wanted was to hear you say “Stay with me.”
Those words never came.
I heard the litany of excuses. “We’ll be together when you come back.” “I don’t want to hold you back.” “You were meant for this.” “If I tell you not to go, you’ll resent me later on” [OK that one might be true]. While I heard it all, I still wanted you to just say ‘Stay’.
In some ways, this was the sequel. The final installment in the story of us. We’ve done this dance and played this film so many times before, I should have been prepared for the ending.
I wasn’t.
Tears fell as I pulled away. Amazingly, I held it together as you kissed me and told me to go be amazing. I stared into your green-gray eyes, imploring you to say something. But you didn’t. And I can still see you standing there as I drive away.
I waited for the call that never came. I finished packing my bags with tears running down my face. My last night at home surrounded by friends was amazing. I noticed you weren’t there. Tears happened on the way to the airport. And again at check in. But once I got on the plane, everything was OK. Traveling was familiar- like an old friend welcoming me back. It envelopes me like a favorite, much too big sweatshirt. Everything feels new and exciting, and that feeling is a comfort to me.
I called you after our first day of training. It was boring as most trainings are, but when you told me you heard an excitement in my voice that’s being missing, you knew you made the right decision. “I was so close to saying ‘Why can’t you stay?’ I’m glad I didn’t because this is what you were meant to do”
I melted. Probably died a little too. I would have stayed. And maybe you knew that too. And in a random act of selflessness, you told me to go change the world. Or at least a corner of it.
After so long together, I thought I knew you like the back of my hand. Turns out, I hardly knew you at all.
