Que Será Será

She Made Me Watch Lolita (2018)

Ever since sophomore year, I dreamt of attending the Philadelphia arts conservatory The University of the Arts (I know, creative name, right?). So, the journey to Philly is a long story, so to sum it up, I basically got in, but couldn't afford the $60,000 tuition because I was a big, fat idiot and didn't apply to scholarships or loans. I got lazy, so strike one. I didn't go that fall, and it ruined me. I found refuge in an Eastover church's after school program, where I got my first job. I got settled at work, and went for another wack at Philly. That year, I made my housing and tuition deposits, and gained access to my student account, financial, academic, and social. I was able to access the numerous Facebook groups for newly accepted students. I took advantage of that, and instantly tried to find some friends. I was going into a school seven hours away from the world I was raised in. It was better to have some insight beforehand.

There was one post in the group that asked to comment your social media handles. I commented my Instagram handle, and waited for the wave of new beautiful and artistic friends. The wave never came, but I got a handful of followers from it. Nothing close to a wave. More like a plop, like merely dropping a rock in a lake.

Anyways, so I was content. I was going to my dream school and I was follow my dreams, against all the odds.

Long story short, strike two. It went kaput. I didn't get enough scholarships and I still had to find out how to get $15,000 for the semester. Another heartbreak.

So I resumed posting on Instagram in NC and watched the handful of followers I gained from the post disappear. That was that.

A couple of days later, I get a message. It's an Instagram direct message.

"ok s o r r y if this is weird but I'm prEtty sure I followed you bc I saw you were going to Uarts but like,, do you actually go here or did I make that up???"

Even though I knew exactly how this situation came up, I was still at a loss for words. How do I reply to this stranger? What do I say, "I'm broke"?

There was no way to work around it without plowing straight through, so I just let everything loose with this stranger, and that might've been my best decision. Or worst.

I remained polite but distant, but this girl kept going. I know it sounds annoying, but there was something about this girl that I just wanted to keep talking to her. She first messaged me around 11pm or so, but we didn't say goodnight until 3am.

My parents aren't huge fans of online relationships. To be totally honest, me neither. I am a huge advocate for hugs and touchy-touchy. No, not sex, but I just love hand-holding, hugs, massages, and playing with girls' hair. So, a long-distance relationship has none of those perks, which I knew if I would continue contacting her, I'd yearn and be miserable that I couldn't hold her, no matter how bad I wanted to. She was the same way, so both of us would be in pain.

However, despite all that, we still gave it a shot.

This girl, Natalie, was so different. She made me feel important. She made me feel like someone cared about me, even when I didn't care about myself. There was so much hope and possibility in this relationship that I couldn't just dismiss this beautiful stranger. Throughout the first conversation, we made each other laugh, discussed the University, and sent each other Instagram pictures of each other. She sent me some dramatic pics someone took of me, and told me how hot I was. I couldn't remember the last time someone called me hot. I couldn't remember the last time someone thought I was attractive.

I was hung over heartbreak number 4729461 from Faith, and how she didn't see me the way I saw her, but as Nat and I kept talking, the less I thought about her. Nat wasn't just a distraction from Faith, she was the cure. I found this out because while Nat and I were Skyping for the first time, I got a notification from Faith but didn't bat an eye. Usually, I get butterflies or my heart skips a beat, but not this time. I was too busy trying to impress Nat. The crush was crushed. I was cured.

This made me want Natalie all the more. However, it wasn't using her to forget Faith. Yes, it helped, but there were many beautiful reasons to want Natalie. She knew my sense of humor. She liked what I liked. She listened. She made me forget about how I was treated in the past. Connor, Audrey, Liz, and even Faith were just a memory. Things were looking different because she was different. She vocalized how she felt about me, and I believed it. She made me feel like maybe I was attractive, and maybe mutual love isn't a pipe dream away. Maybe it's just 7 hours away.

So, naturally, I got mushy gushy. I told my closest friends about her, and let them see her Instagram, too. They all patted me on the back and I felt really good. I told my friend, Erin, who shares a similar Faith situation herself, about how I didn't flinch at a Faith text, and she was so proud of me. The torment was over. I did it, and all thanks to a Facebook group.

Throughout our conversations, Nat would joke around (I think?) about how bad she wanted to kiss me, and I did the same. We flirted like that. And I was telling the truth, too, because I knew if she were standing right in front of me, that she could run into my arms, I would catch her, we'd kiss, we'd smile and just enjoy the moment. The whole thing became cinematic. I only knew love from movies, so I played a piano score behind us, and make our first kiss and first everythings have a "happy ending" feel to it, because I truly believed that this beautiful stranger could quite possibly be my happy ending.

If only I wasn't so naive.

Hurricane Florence hit a week or two later, and though Nat sat comfy and safe in Philly, I had to brace for wind and rain. Granted, there wasn't much damage to my house, but there was tremendous damage to our power. We spent 6 days without power. I used every ounce of battery I could save to tell Nat good morning and good night. I would look forward to my 5 minutes I spent talking to her before having to shut off my phone for the day. I did a lot of reading and studying monologues in the time off my phone, and it was eye-opening. I made plans to visit Philly for an open house, and to visit her. I also made plans for us to spend a weekend in a Fayetteville hotel, just so we could spend time together. I wasn't dumb in love, but I was just so desperate to be loved back. I was desperate to know if there was truly someone out there who loves me too. I needed that confirmation.

When the lights flicked back on, and my phone was charging once again, I immediately went to her and explained my plan. She preferred that I go to her, and I was already on the website, attempting to schedule a visit.

In the meantime, Nat got me to watch Lolita, a love story about almost pedophilia, nymphs, and incest kidnapping? It's incredibly hard to explain, but nonetheless, the movie broke my heart.

My sin, my soul, Lolita.

So a couple days later, after my mind recovered from Lolita, Nat and I were having a normal text conversation when I notice her giving shorter-than-usual replies. After I ask her what's wrong, she gave an all-too-familiar spill:

"It's just hard because I'm here, and you're not, and I'm meeting new people, and I feel like I'm being forced to commit to you and I don't think I should have to do that ."

The end.

Like always, I fought and fought, but she already said goodbye to me way before I could say it back. She was on a moving train, turned away, and I'm behind her, chasing her, running as fast as I can, but knowing there was no way I could catch her. Yet, I still ran.

I didn't want my Nat to become my Gnat. I didn't want my Butterfly to fly away. I didn't want spending a weekend in a hotel room with her an embarrassing fantasy. Suddenly, as the train sped on, I eventually stopped, and the haunting memories and feelings of Faith, Connor, and Audrey rushed back. They've been waiting for me.

Natalie was gone, and although I fought and fought. She gave up fighting. She was done, and to be honest, I'm not sure if I'm done fighting yet.

My sin, my soul, Lolita.