"I love him! I love him for the man he wants to be. And I love him for the man he almost is." – Jerry Maguire
The past few days had been terrible, It was a blur of crying into my roommates' arms and blubbering about what happened. Forcing myself to go to class and to do my research work without breaking down, and using every ounce of restraint I had to not call or text him.
We were over and it didn't feel real, or right. I knew it would happen, but it wasn't supposed to be this soon. He'd promised me these next few months, he'd let me believe he loved me, he let me fall in love with him. I'd never actually said it though. I don't know if I regretted that or not. If I'd said it would he have stayed? I kept asking myself that despite knowing the answer was no. This was his dream, there was absolutely nothing that either of us could've done differently.
I missed him. So much. Every day I thought of about a thousand things I wanted to tell him and it'd hit all over again that I couldn't. He wasn't my person anymore. I missed him so much I'd followed the Maple Leafs on Instagram just to see him. They posted him holding his new jersey, and he'd looked so good.
It wasn't fair, we broke up and I was here looking and feeling like complete and utter shit, and there he was looking better than ever signing his contract and getting everything he'd ever wanted. I wasn't a part of it, and I never would've been. I'd known it would hurt, I knew I'd feel this way, and yet I foolishly fell for him anyway.
I'd been lying in bed when his name lit up my phone, and I'd never reached for it so fast. I'd been rewatching all the rom-coms we'd watched together pathetically just to feel something before his game started. I had to watch it all in my room because I knew there was no way the girls would let me watch it. If they knew I was they'd force me to go out or to watch anything else. I had to see it though, I had to see him achieve his dream, and selfishly I just wanted to see him again, to pretend for a half second that we were achieving this together.
"And there he is, the man of the night Hayden West, the Leaf's newest rookie straight out of Seaport Washington, making his NHL debut tonight. He'll be playing on the third line tonight replacing Donaldson," one of the announcers says as they're showing the players skate around for warmups.
The camera zooms in on his face, and I tear up a bit. He looks so good like he's thriving there. And I know from his call that he's nervous and that he's probably just as much a mess inside as I am, but he looks good. He looks like he belongs there, and he does.
The game gets started, and the team they're up against doesn't seem to be very good, and the Leafs take the lead pretty early on. They're up 4-1 in the second period, which seems good for hockey when Hayden steals the puck and I stop breathing. He's skating down and there's no one even close to him, it's just him against the goalie.
The puck soars straight into the goal. Tears unwillingly start streaming down my face. He did it. He more than did it, he just scored, in his first-ever game.
"I've been telling you Paul, this kid is someone to look out for. From an assist to win the National Championship to now scoring a goal in his first-ever game. Hayden West is looking to make a name for himself in the NHL," one of the announcers says.
"And What a shot, a rookie scoring in his first-ever game, you don't see that every day that's for sure," the other one responds.
I grab my phone and have a congratulations text halfway typed, then delete the entire message. I'm not supposed to do that anymore, that's something that a girlfriend does. I'm not a girlfriend anymore. I'm just. I don't even know. I guess I'm just a fan.
I don't catch anything else that happens the rest of the period, I'm too out of it thinking about Hayden, and then I hear his voice, and my attention jolts back to the screen where he's being interviewed between periods.
He's incredibly sweaty, but smiling like a little kid at Disney. His dark hair is made even darker from the wetness and it's a mess somewhat slicked back behind his ears. I turn the volume up to hear what he's saying.
"Yeah, it's an incredible feeling, I definitely wasn't expecting to score today. My goal was just to not make a fool out of myself out there," he jokes to the interviewer. I beam, he deserves this. Every second of it.
The lady interviewing him laughs, "How've you liked Toronto so far?"
"It's definitely been an adjustment," he says then looks directly into the camera, "there's some people I'm missing back home, but the City and the team has been great and I couldn't be happier to be a Leaf..."
I don't process a word of the rest of the interview, the people he's missing back home. That's me right, he misses me? It could be a hundred people, he had so many friends here, but I feel like it's me. Maybe I'm just crazy and miss him, but I know he misses me, how could he not? He said he loves me, you don't get over that in a week. You miss the person you love, I do at least.
They have another game two days later, and I watch it too. He doesn't score in this one, but plays exceptionally well as far as I can tell. Though with my limited knowledge of the sport, and slight bias towards Hayden, I'd probably think he was killing it even if he was skating as badly as I do. He's him though so I know he's got to be playing well even to someone more seasoned in hockey than I.
The days drag on, and I get through them through a mixture of paying way too much attention to anything I see about the Maple Leafs, plunging myself into school work and research, and crying. It gets a little easier every day, but I didn't realize how many little things I'd gotten used to sharing with him.
I hear back from the final school I applied to, and finally make my decision. It's MIT, what a shock. Without even thinking about it, I call him. It feels so natural, and as it rings I know I should end the call before he answers, if he even answers, but there's some part of me that just needs to share it with him.
"Cassie, hey is everything okay? Are you okay," he asks when he answers, and I realize I probably scared him by calling him. I was the one to say we shouldn't talk to each other for a little while after all.
"Hey, yeah everything's okay. More than okay actually, I heard back from the final program I was waiting on and I'm going to MIT.
"Holy shit that's amazing, congratulations," he all but shouts into the phone and I can perfectly picture him somewhere in Toronto with a big smile on his face.
"Thank you, you're the first person I told actually. It just would've felt wrong to tell anyone else first," I say feeling extremely vulnerable.
He's silent for a split second and then, "I'm glad you told me. Seriously, I'm so happy for you. I mean this is everything."
"I know," I say feeling giddy and excited for the first time since he left. I'm officially going to the school of my dreams. "So how's everything going up there? Is it everything you hoped for?"
"It's been amazing. More than I could've dreamed of. All the guys on the team are great, and one of the guys on my line is letting me stay with him until I get a place up here."
"Oh, nice which one, Evans or Bjorklund," I ask instinctively, realizing I've now completely given away the fact that I've been watching all of his games.
He laughs, "Bjorklund, he's a bit older and has really taken me in. He took me to this really good sushi place the other day, you would've loved it."
"Really," I ask shocked, Bjorklund is one of the most aggressive players on the team and I've seen him get in two fights already, "He seems so scary on the ice."
"So you've been watching our games then," he asks.
I blush, even though he can't see me I feel like he'll somehow know, "I've caught a few."
"uh huh sure just a few. Just admit it you're a huge Maple Leaf's fan now."
I laugh, "I think I'd have to understand the game to be considered a fan. Besides I've seen a few interviews and your fans scare me."
"They're just passionate about the sport," he responds laughing, "I've got to leave for practice now, talk later," he asks and I can tell from his tone and the way he pauses at the end that it's completely out of habit.
"Yeah," I say, knowing it's probably a mistake, but desperately still wanting a part of my life to feel like this, "talk to you later."
With that, we hang up and I sit there for a few minutes willing myself not to cry. It was so good to hear his voice and his laugh again. I never thought I'd miss him this much, I hadn't even missed Steven this much and we'd been together for so much longer.
That conversation was the first time since he left where I didn't feel numb or like I was a shell of a person, It felt right and like I was myself again. God I missed it, and I missed him. I wasn't supposed to though, I was supposed to be moving on and getting over him.
I don't do anything big to let everyone else know about MIT, they all basically knew already, but the girls still insist on going out for drinks to celebrate it since it is such a big accomplishment. We're also celebrating Alyssa who finally decided on going to grad school at NYU. They were the last school she heard back from, and she'd always dreamed of living in New York.
"You know," I tell her as we're sitting at the bar, "this means we'll only be like a train ride away from each other. We can hang out all the time."
She smiles at me, "Thank god. You're all going to need to come visit for a girls' trip, we can crowd into whatever shoebox I'm living in."
"You guys," Adri says looking at all of us, "This is it. We're all moving on and going to different places next year."
"Oh shut up," Alyssa replies, "You and Lyra are literally still going to live together."
"True," Lyra says sharing a smile with Adri.
"To our futures, and lots of phone calls and girls trips," Adri calls out, raising her glass to clink against ours.
We all clink them together then laugh and start reminiscing over the past few years together and talking about what's to come. As ready as I am to be done with my undergrad, and off at MIT I'm not ready to say goodbye to all my friends.
We drink more than we probably should, and stumble back to our apartment a little bit after midnight, and it feels like every other college night ever. Maybe I'm actually doing better now, maybe I can finally stop being sad and empty and go back to feeling myself again. Tonight's at least a good start.
The next day, I get an email from the professor I met who works at MIT, officially welcoming me, and inviting me to go ahead and join her research team over the summer. I shriek so loud that Alyssa comes marching into my room looking ready to fight someone.
"What's wrong," she shouts looking around like there could be an attacker somewhere in my room.
"I just got an email from MIT, and I can join the research team I'll be on as early as this summer," I shriek jumping up of my bed and jumping up and down. Alyssa joins my excitement.
"Holy shit, congratulations girl," she says.
"That means I'll be moving to Boston in just over a month," I say as the realization hits me.
"Wow," she replies sounding more solemn than before, "That's really soon."
"I know," I say, standing there going through all the things I need to do before I can move.
"It's going to be amazing though," Alyssa says grabbing my hand and squeezing it, probably sensing how jumbled my brain is, "Now let's go get to kickboxing and punch some shit before making a list of everything we need to do before you go."
I smile, "That sounds like exactly what I need right now."