Invisible String

Chapter 1

I tried not to skip with excitement. I had been dreaming about this moment since I had fallen in love with him at age 17 over the screen. I couldn't believe this was happening, I couldn't believe that it had happened. I felt like I'd just woken up from a dream, and I tried to look back at the encounter that was like a clear dream with haze showering over it. I sought to remember every detail, every inch of his face, and every echo of his voice, as it played in my head. I walked, looking forward, but my mind was still at the restaurant, along with my beating heart. "Elise!" I turned to see Gigi waving at me with a book in her hand, from the inside of the doorway into the bookstore. She looked confused, but smiled, laughing at my dreaminess. I readjusted my mind, putting the memory into the back of my mind. I had to keep it a secret for now. "Hey!" I said, flustered, as I walked up the stairs. I tripped on the second step, grabbing the rail hastily. "Are you okay? You look like you just fell in love." My head whipped to her. "what?" I asked sharply. she looked alarmed. "Nothing, it was a joke. What's the matter with you?" She added, pinching me and laughing. "Why so tense?" I shrugged and handed her her tea that I'd forgotten I'd been holding. "I'm not. I'm hot and tired, that's all." I yawned. I actually was a bit sleepy. I'd been staying up late. Her eyes widened. "Oh. Okay." She walked out of the store with me, and we were hit by the hot air and blazing sun. I grabbed her hand and tugged, and we bolted towards the fountains sprinklers, in the center of the town square. The water shot up out of the ground, and we played and laughed, as we got soaked, the water cold against our skin. I jumped around, and let myself feel free. It was a wonderful feeling, of childhood and hope. I missed everything. This city held so much importance in me. the meadows just outside the city that only ended at the foothills of the Carpathian mountains. I loved to roll around in the fields, until the sky grew dark, where the only sound were parties in the distance, and crickets and owls serenading you. Where I longed to watch the stars until dawn, perhaps alongside a loved one. I wanted to undress and walk naked through the tall grass, my bare feet greeting the soft grass with wildflowers carefully creeping along with my ankles. I wanted to dip my thin body into a nearby river and feel the water engulf my spirit, allowing me to be my freest self. My wild, free-spirited, nature bound self.

These were wishes of a soul who belonged in the wild, and I think I thought of myself as less human, and more of a wild creature sometimes. I was reckless and adventure-seeking. I was emotional and touch starved. I longed for independence, but I also needed other people to fill this void within me. I was quite the contradictory person. I was so afraid of everything. Everything. And there were things I was well aware would never stop scaring me. And there is no but to that. It is a statement I know now and always have. I was so scared, and so excited for my life, too. I wanted to be alone, I wanted to be free, absolutely and unconditionally. I was naturally independent, but I craved a soulmate. not someone to always be by my side, or who felt obligated to love me. I wanted someone who chose to love me, someone to be mesmerized with me. Someone who could understand me, and my soul. Someone independent, who would be there for me, someone who kept me young and alive. Someone to give me time, give me attention, give me a child.

We drove home, light summer rain hitting the window, and Gigi had put on Folklore by Taylor Swift. Normally, when we drove, we screamed at the top of our lungs with the windows down, but we were both tired, and the summer heat made us drowsy. I listened to a slow song, and watched out the window, looking at the trees lining deep forests, the dirt roads beginning at the edge of these paved roads. We pulled into the house driveway, and it wasn't our house, but my grandparent's house. Her house was in the countryside, right at the foothills of the mountains. She greeted us with open arms, and we walked inside, stepping into the courtyard behind the door and gate. There was a table outside in the courtyard tonight, on the grass. The courtyard stretched out longways from the entrance to the barn in the back. The barn was big and red and had a classic look with its chipped paint and hay-filled interior. To the left, there was the first house, which had stairs leading up to two bedrooms, one on either side, with a bathroom in between. Next to that house was the cellar, which was the coldest and darkest place during the summer, where you had to duck when walking down the stairs, and spiders lurked serenely. It was full of homemade goods: jams, syrups, wine, hard alcohol (moonshine specifically) ketchup, pickled vegetables, and more. There were sausages, garlic, and onions hanging on every corner, as is the custom in Romanian households. The next house was the kitchen, where there were steps leading up to a doorway that was never closed, instead of having beads hanging through the doorway. The kitchen had a little couch, a television, and a dining table, but the kitchen was never used to cook in the summer, only to store things in the fridge or to help yourself to cereal. The next house to it was one big room. Through the doorway, there was an even bigger dining table, a big fireplace, glass cabinets holding crystal plates, and very special items, with pictures of my family members no longer with us. On the other side of the room were a couch and armchairs. Next to that house, was a workshed, and then you were at the barn. From the right side of the courtyard, was an outdoor patio elevated on rocks and covered with grapevines forming a roof, keeping it very concealed and almost jungle-like. Then there was the rose archway that led to the garden, which was behind the patio and outside of the courtyard. Next to the archway was our childhood treehouse, next to an old well. Next to that, was the kitchen that was actually used for most of the year, where no one went except for my grandmother. Next to that was the indoor patio, with a roof and walls on every side but the entrance side, which instead was just a picket fence. We ate here and used this as our living room in the summer so that even if it rained we were still outdoors. Next to this was the porch swing, alongside a big tree, and then you had the garage. It was a countryside build, where each room has a dedicated house, each room having an entrance from the courtyard. The courtyard itself was covered in grass except for along the edges that led to each house. There were also stone steps to walk across from the kitchen to the dining room. It was home.

We walked into the kitchen to wash our hands and then sat down at the table, where my parents hugged me. My dad was barbecuing with my grandfather, and my mom was sitting with her cousin, who was joining us for dinner. They kissed me on each cheek in greeting, and Gigi and I sat down and talked to my sister, who came out to see us. "There you are." She said. "Hi Clemie," Gigi said, "How was your day?" Clemie shrugged. "Fine. I just hung out here, mommy and daddy went on a hike." I laughed, as I grabbed some tortilla chips. "They didn't make you go?" Clemie responded, "No, thank goodness, it's too hot for that." Gigi nodded In agreement. "what did you guys do?" She asked knowingly. "We walked around Sibiu for a while and I visited a cool bookstore. It was so cool have you ever seen the..." I stopped listening to Gigi's summary of our day, and my mind drifted back to what had happened just this afternoon. I remembered that I had given him my Snapchat, and checked my phone. There was no message. I put my phone away and tried to not get disappointed. It's fine, it's early, I thought. We ate a classic Romanian meal, grilled vegetables, and bread and polenta, and as the sky darkened, our family chatted animatedly amongst one another, talking to one another about the hike my parents had been on today. Gigi asked questions about Romanian culture and the language, as she was always curious. I talked to her about it for a while, until we moved into the outdoor patio, where my dad played guitar, and my mom and her cousin were having a deep conversation. My grandmother cleared the table as my grandfather was reading a book. I sat with Gigi and considered telling her about the man. I didn't need to specify who he was, or how famous he was, just that I'd met a guy and gotten asked out. I just had to tell her. It would be suspicious and tiring, if I was being honest, to have to sneak around, and to have to come up with an excuse if we did meet up again. Goodness, I hope we would. I wanted to talk to him, to get to know him, for him to get to know me. What if he liked me? No stop. I couldn't get ahead of myself. But to go back to the matter of telling Gigi... well it would be exciting to sneak around, but not with Gigi. I wanted to tell Gigi. "hey." I said. She turned to me quizzically. "What's up?" I had spoken more solemnly than I had wanted. I changed my tone to be lighter. "So remember, today when I went to the cafe," She nodded. "Well... I met this guy, in line." She gasped. "and you waited this long to tell me?" She laughed. "Well? Tell me about him. Did he look like James Brooke?" I laughed. "Oh, yes." She squealed. "And? How did you guys start talking?" I told her the story that I had recounted in my head countless times at this point. As I told the story, I came out of this reverie I had been in. I was processing what had happened, and as I told it, my heartbeat so hard, thumping in my chest, I was surprised she didn't notice. My wildest dream had come to life. I truly thought I might have been in a dream if I didn't know better. My smile spread across my face into a childish grin, and my face got hot. I didn't even know what to feel. I was so excited and felt as though my heart was falling into a rabbit hole of hope and excitement, and dreaminess, as my mind started thinking of the wildest, wondrous possibilities, that this encounter may entail. I think I had become so attached to this fantasy that I felt as if I already knew him. I always felt he was my soulmate, this other soul connected to my own, and I wondered if I was his. I couldn't even imagine. What if my dreams were actually going to come true? After all this time of pinning and waiting, and my friends telling me it wouldn't ever happen, and that I need to try to be with other guys. All this time, there was an invisible string, a path, guiding me to him.