The Boiling of the Bones

17. Last Night in the City

I don't know why I never told her I was leaving. Truth is, we didn't talk much anymore. Our lives had drifted apart. We had an occasional coffee on a Sunday morning or a walk in the park—about once a month. We were both too busy for more than that. I was literally working or sleeping all the time. All I had was the weekend and she worked lots of weekends. Our schedules never aligned, and she didn't need me anymore. She had a boyfriend. Her life was great, and she was happy.

Still, I should have told her. Maybe deep down I hoped things would go differently. Or I didn't want her to think I was trying to manipulate her by using my trip as an ultimatum, threatening to leave if she didn't get back together with me.

But mostly I put it off because it would be painful. I didn't want to think about it. So, I shut it out of my mind and ignored it. I had to eventually tell her. I just kept waiting for the right time, but it never came.

I couldn't just sneak away without even saying goodbye, she'd feel confused and hurt if I did that, but it was getting harder and harder to talk to her, the deeper the divide grew between us. I couldn't share my true feelings because if I did, then frankly, I'd have to tell her I was still madly in love with her, and it was clear she didn't reciprocate.

I'd never seriously dated anyone but her and had no desire to even meet other girls. If I told her the truth, she'd freak out and I'd force her to throw up that defensive wall and explain that we're just friends and nothing more. The moment would turn awkward, and that awkwardness would permanently destroy our friendship. So, I didn't tell her.

The day before I was leaving, I still hadn't told her. I couldn't. She was successful, and my music career was in the toilet. She was dating a famous dancer--supposedly an amazing guy, and I was delivering fish. I smelled terrible most of the time. Even after I showered, people still complained I stunk.

There was no way I could talk to her. I'd text her. Once I was gone, I'd text her. If she couldn't see my face, then I could lie to her and say goodbye without cracking.

That night I couldn't sleep. I kept tossing and turning. I had my bags packed, ready to go, but nervous tension was eating me up. What a coward I was. I should have at least said goodbye to her. I owed her that much. I didn't have to confess my love to her, but I should have at least composed myself enough to say goodbye. I tossed and turned some more and then finally I got up the nerve to text her. I hoped she wasn't in bed with her boyfriend. They still weren't living together but I imagined she occasionally spent the night with him.

Hi Soph, what are u doing?

What do think I'm doing, dork? I'm sleeping

I need to talk

What's up?

Need to see you

Right now?

Yes

What time is it?

3:30

Is it an emergency?

Kind of, full moon out, beautiful night, don't want to waste it

Ur crazy

U coming?

Fine where?

Washington Square Park by the fountain

Be there in ten

"I can't believe you texted me at three a.m." she said. "My roommates probably think it was a booty call."

I wanted to go for a walk in Central Park on a trail around the lake. But it was cold and that was a long way from her dorm, so I picked the place we first met in New York, only a few minutes' walk away for her. There really was a full moon out and it was a beautiful night.