After our return to school it seemed as if everything was back to normal. We spent our free time together and when graduation came, we celebrated our 12 years of hard work. Everything was so surreal, the fact that we were growing up and starting new lives in the real world, oblivious to the hardships that would follow, but embracing the thought of new experiences with an open heart.
We spent our last summer together, on a road trip of course, the fact that we would soon be forced to part lingering over our heads. She became the type of rain that I adored to dance in. I remember the glow of my computer screen against her tan skin, and how I gazed at her impeccable features rather than the movie we were watching. I remember the feeling of her palm in my palm, her lips on my lips, her lips everywhere. I remember the day we spent in the rain acting as if we were children when we both knew that our time together was coming to a close. I remember climbing to the top of mountains to watch the sunrise, and driving to unknown cities while watching the sun dip below the trees, leaving the sky painted each night. I remember sneaking into night clubs and drunkenly stumbling back to our room at three in the morning, giggling at our own stupidity. I remember crappy hotel rooms and roaches crawling over our shoes; we always debated on who would kill it this time. I remember her soft skin brushing against mine as we shared the shower each night, just hoping the hot water didn't run out before we could finish. I remember hot bubble baths as I settled myself between her legs, and how her lips felt against the top of my head. I remember the sound of her voice reading to me, singing to me, anything and everything she found appealing, it was the most comforting thing I had ever known. We had picnics together, we rode bikes through the city and made the city our home. There was not one moment that I didn't desire to be with her, there was not one moment when she made me feel like she would rather be anywhere else besides my arms. And when the time came for us to part, as painful as it was, we did.
She was going to California to pursue a music career, and I was staying here. Miles and miles, hours and hours, however it wasn't the distance that separated us, it was simply the time to be apart, and somewhere inside of us we both knew it. We didn't understand why, but we just knew.
Our last night together was blissful. I could feel our connection, it was undeniable. We were meant to be together and there was no reason not to believe that. I couldn't sleep that night. We couldn't sleep that night. I spent hours and hours starting into her eyes, the curve of her lips, her jawline, her smile when she laughed, simply savoring what I knew would be the last of these moments with her.
On Sunday morning, hours before daybreak, we packed her bags into her tiny white sedan, and with tears flooding from both of our eyes, I watched her drive away. I remember how the salt of her tears tasted on her lips that day, and the reluctancy in which we let each other go, let each other grow. There was a desperation between the two of us, begging each other to make it work even though we both knew that's not what the world wanted. I still miss her. I will always miss her.
It has been four months since that morning. I spend my days studying at my local college. She spends her days studying and her nights at poetry slams and coffee shop concerts. Although we speak frequently, things are different, as expected. There's a loneliness that comes with her absence. Dinah tells me she feels it too. But she looks happy and that's all I have ever wanted, to see her live her dreams somewhere where they will be accepted and lifted up. We miss each other and there is an understanding of that between the both of us. Maybe one of these days I will find myself in California or maybe she will find her way back to me and we could create a fire again, but in the end we are what we were always meant to be, friends.
