The Art of Yearning

Misunderstandings

Tw: Vomiting.

Coffee.

It had been a coffee shop that brought you together. When you first saw him, the words in your mind appeared in many forms, getting stuck in the back of your throat. Upon glancing at you, his green eyes met yours, his dirty blonde hair neatly brushed, his bushy eyebrows perfectly sitting on his face. Expecting a smile, he glanced down at his book again, like you were the most boring person in the room. Disappointed, hours passed of you reading the small letters on the pages of your textbook. The rain hitting the window, a shadow crept over you, expecting a full cloud, his green eyes looked at you, the same book sitting in his hand. You talked for many hours, finding out you were in the same classes, going down the same career path. When you spoke, he kept his hands to his mouth, listening to you intensively.

Ever since then, you were inseparable. Purposely asking for help on assignments you both knew how to do. Finding excuses to go over to your dorm rooms, having to sneak around each other's roommates. It was a thrill at the beginning. You memorized every speckle of his eye, how he liked to have his hair brushed behind his ear during pillow talk. How his fingers would trace your spine softly, his deep voice whispering what he liked about you. Needing to always be around each other, you fell in love quickly.

Then things changed. The busier you both got during law school, the more arguments you would have. Needing to be separate from each other before one of you apologized. It was always you who did. Not only was law school difficult, but you also became too focused on it, ignoring those around you. Especially your boyfriend, you were starting to love quickly. Not knowing what he was up to or how he was doing. The typing of your keyboard was all you were focused on, the rustling of textbook pages you were skimming past.

The first time it happened, you passed your finals after locking yourself for a week to study. Entering his dorm room, the girl who he told you was just a friend was on top of him. You were in shock, but what shocked you the most was you wanted to apologize. Quick exchanges of words and storming off, he ended up on your front door, apology reciting over and over. And you forgave him. Not wanting to lose the person you fell so madly in love with.

When he asked you to marry him in your last year of law school, you were ecstatic. Believing that the second chance you gave him was worth it. Getting to spend every moment with him, more moments of his fingertips tracing your spine while brushing his hair behind his ear. The inseparable relationship between both of you subsided.

The endless conversations stopped, forcing conversations before letting the silence finish it. It wasn't the same, no more pillow talk, leaving each other to study, while you stared out the window thinking, your future with him unreachable. At times it was nonstop laughter, talking, kissing. Other times complete silence. He met with his friend he didn't tell you about often. You didn't think much of it at the time. Trying to process why fewer jokes were shared, the speckle in his eyes changing quickly. He kept things to himself until it was the last minute.

You knew it was over, or you'd spend the rest of your life with someone who couldn't love you the way you loved them. You decided taking a break to figure your relationship would be best. He was hesitant about it. Still, you forced it on him, wanting to fight for love, wanting to be able to fix whatever had occurred. Then it happened again. A woman on your bedsheets, you knew it was over. The opportunity of job miles away, begging you to accept, you took it without a thought. You were blinded by love, knowing that the changes in the way your relationship changed weren't you. The signs right in front of you that you didn't see.

Then that's where you met the other him.

It was different with Charlie. When you first met him, you were speechless, no words resting in the back of your throat. When you spoke, it wasn't a silly conversation. It was getting to know each other deeply. Opening up to him in ways you didn't expect. He was kind to you, looking at you in a way that made you feel special. Opportunities being brought to you where he was always in the same place as you. When he told you what he did during his marriage, you tried to push it back, blinded by how he made you feel, caring for him too quickly—his sunlike aura reflecting you in warmth.