February 2008
The Grand Finale
I always loved the last few moments of fireworks–those bursts of multicolored sparks and blinding flashes of beautiful hues. Lost in the enchantment, the magic would seem almost unending. Then there was always that moment at the end where you’d sit and wait for more, because you could never be so sure that things were really over. You’d just have to wait it out and eagerly hope for more.
Wilmington, Delaware–land of…no taxes. That’s about the only good thing this place has going for it. Being stuck in this city for almost three weeks now, I have to say I’m ready to go home. The fact that I don’t know anyone here and that there’s absolutely nothing to do after work doesn’t help the matter, either.
When Derek (the guy I’ve been going out on dates with for the past few months) said he was going to drive six hours to see me, my lonely heart warmed. The fact that someone would drive that far to see me obviously meant he liked me. Because who else in their right mind would drive that far–no matter how great the sex or company? It was easy to come back to the hotel everyday because I knew I was going to see him at the end of my workweek, and that fact alone gave me strength to tolerate this city. It’s crazy how one person can bring so much hope to your life, but he did. And when Derek actually made it here, I can‘t explain the excitement I felt. His effort in traveling this far gave me a hope that I hadn’t felt in a long time–a hope that defeated all the things keeping us apart (the distance and constant busyness in our lives.) It made me feel confident that things could actually work out this time.
That evening over dinner, we talked about our lives and where things were going for each of us. Things took a grim turn when we started talking about the main obstacles holding each other back from starting a relationship. And the more Derek spoke about the reality of our situation, the more I could feel my heart bursting and fading like fireworks.
A resolution to the matter would not come. I didn’t know what to say to make things better. I didn’t know if there was anything I could say. But I attempted to make the most out of the remainder of the time we had left together that evening even though I couldn’t stop thinking about whether or not things would change like they had before. But the truth was: things had already begun to change.
After we kissed each other goodbye, I attempted to make my way back to the empty prison that is my hotel room. And as I walked down the vacant hallway, I felt even lonelier than I did before Derek came.
That night, I sat alone in my hotel bed, clinging onto a hope in my heart and clutching onto a cell phone in my hand, hoping one of the two would soon show some sign of life. After a while, emptiness engulfed the uncomfortable stillness in the room. And as I drew the curtains shut, I wondered if the fireworks between Derek and I were really over. I sat and hoped for that perfect moment that would light up the sky.
The phone never rang…
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In Dreams
The rain fell like balmy kisses against our faces, each bead lovingly caressing as it brushed against our skin. As he held his hands against the corners of my face, he gently wiped the rain away from my cheeks with his thumbs while holding a transfixing gaze that burned deep into my soul.
“You‘re all I think about,” he said, smiling despite the rain. His moist lips parted, revealing a drop of water that happily swayed in tune with his warm breath. He pulled my body closer to his, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. The taps of rain overtook all sound and drummed in melody to my quickening heartbeat as he leaned forward for the kiss. I closed my eyes and waited for the rain to evaporate from my skin; I knew this kiss would set me on fire…
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!
Pushing my head from the pillow, I awoke to the sound of a screeching fire alarm accompanied by strobe lights flashing like a gay disco all around me. I forcibly raised my body from the bed, slightly disoriented and still in a deep trance from sleep.
“What the hell?” I mumbled as I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock on the nightstand beside me. It was after 1am.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!
The screeching alarm continued, and with a flip of a switch on the lamp, I surveyed the room for smoke. Seeing none, I debated whether or not it was worth it to continue my wet dream (pun intended) and risk burning to death in a fire or if it was life-threatening enough to actually get out of bed for. So I pushed the pillow over my ears in hopes of muting the unending squeal, but the overbearing noise persisted. I had no choice.
I stumbled out of bed and threw on the warmest clothes I could find, grabbed my most expensive belongings, and then headed outside to wait for the fire department to come investigate. (And here I thought Delaware couldn’t get any worse…)
When I stepped outside, the cold wind woke me up faster than a bitch slap to the face. I quickly drew my clothing close to me and stood outside the hotel building while the muted ring of the alarm still blared inside.
Families and friends congregated in groups, but I stood alone, knowing no one in a city full of strangers and wishing more than anything that I was still lost in that dream where I was warm and with the person I cared about. I shivered in hopes warmness would return and my mind drifted. My thoughts trailed off to more thoughts which trailed off to more thoughts of Derek.
Derek and I haven’t spoken much since his visit, and when we have spoken, I feel as if I’m more of an inconvenience in his life right now than anything else. I’ve tried to give him space, but it seems like the more I give, the further we drift apart. Now, here I was–by myself in a distant city–on Valentine’s Day wondering if the person I was thinking about was thinking about me.
I sat outside listening to the buzz of the streetlamp above me while the sharp wind clawed at my body as if attempting to mince away the little warmth I had left. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, rain began to fall in icy clumps. Each drop slashed against my warm skin, cutting like Cupid’s arrows.
Soon after, as if on some dramatic cue, the streetlamp above me faded out, and I sat alone in darkness, listening to the drops of rain fall like morsels of glass that bitter Valentine’s morning in Delaware. I closed my eyes to dream, but reality was cold enough to force me awake. And I knew that my hope for us was fading dimmer each day and living in dreams couldn’t change that…
Snowfall
They say that among the billions of snowflakes that fall, everyone is unique–that each glistening flake is meticulously crafted by God’s hand and beautifully detailed by nature to be rare, transitory diamonds descending to the earth. And it’s true: snow’s cold beauty is unrivaled by any jewel.
They also say that among the billions of people in the world, every person is unique and, among them, one person amidst the billions will come along and love you for everything that makes you the person you are–the good, the bad, the ups-and-downs, the flaws, the beauty–everything. You’ll complete each other. Because the truth is: love’s warm beauty is unrivaled by any emotion.
Today I stood against the doorway at work and stared out at the snowfall with a terrible longing in my heart for spring to arrive. This winter has been a long, complex, and emotionally draining time for me. My life has changed so much, and in a short period of time, I’ve grown up quite a bit. Along the way, I was forced to learn lessons I didn’t‘ want to. And quite honestly, it stings.
When I was a child, I never thought snowflakes to be anything but magical bits of heaven that brought about red cheeks, days off from school, snowball fights, snowmen, and sleigh riding. I remember waking up in the mornings and listening to the radio to hear if school was canceled or not, because my trusty sled awaited the chance for the beckoning hills to play. And I could stay outside for hours and not once feel the rush of cold. Even though my feet would be numb when I came back inside, I never noticed–I never cared. My youthful excitement for life was enough to warm me inside.
When you get older, you feel the cold more than you used to–it chills your veins. You realize that snowfall can become dangerous when you put yourself out there on the open road; life is different when you’re there in the driver’s seat and you have to brave the weather alone. After so many wintry storms, you can feel the numbness even before you go outside and you begin to fear the dead of winter, because those once-playful hills transform into mute gargoyles that hover over the earth and trap you inside. If you do stay outside for long, the cold overtakes the beauty. Life isn’t as snug when you have no one to warm you, and it isn’t as beautiful when you have no one to remind you of it.
After work, I stood outside the station and watched my misty breath float downwind as each exhalation of tepid air expired. I stretched out my arms and opened the palms of my hands to the endless dusting of snow falling from the somber sky. I wanted to close my eyes and experience that feeling of numbness to the world. I wanted to hold those heartwarming moments again and laugh at it all. But, one after the other, each snowflake touched my bare skin, melted away, and dripped to a frigid puddle on the ground.
I breathed in the cutting air and walked alone to my car. Thoughts howled like the cold wind raging through the barren winter trees, and I found myself at the same place I was a year ago: tired, cold, and with my lonely hand extended–wondering why all the snowflakes I wanted to keep had to melt away so fast…
