Part XIII

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Part XIII

Saying goodbye was more difficult than I imagined.  In such a short amount of time, this man had captured my heart and senses, weaseled his way into my deep affection and caused me to love him truly.  To even imagine being apart for a whole semester sent me reeling.  Ever the emotional woman, I cried, I clung, I pretended I was independent, and then I cried some more.  He was such a light in my life, I hated to see us part – knowing full well what I’d be missing.

Yet, like it or not, we both headed our separate ways, with plans to see each other in October.  Two and a half months away, but it was a goal, nonetheless.  Plus, we were now able to talk on the phone whenever we pleased.  Travis convinced me to get a cell phone by promising he’d take care of every last detail: payments, minutes, etc.  I was happy to oblige him, and even more content to be “taken care of.” 

August and September whizzed on by.  I was busy, busy, busy with school, work, and friends.  I missed Travis terribly, but I was still able to enjoy the freedom of the single life.  My roommates were my best friends and we spent most every evening, weekend, and spare moment together.  Life as a college student was certainly not glamorous, but as everyone claims, they were the best days of our lives.

As the end of September drew nigh, and October peeked her brisk self through the doorway, my anticipation of seeing Travis once again left me sleepless many nights.  I was to meet him in Florida, where he would be spending a couple of days recuperating after a 6-week training course in the South.  Tommy and Olivia were stationed in Florida and we would both reside with them, near the ocean, for those couple of days.  It was too good to be true: a holiday at the seaside, with great friends, and my Lovey.  I couldn’t wait.  The day finally came for me to leave, and my head was full of expectations of how we would great one another, would we kiss right away?, should I powder my nose before I met him at baggage claim??  All I wanted was to be in those strong, familiar arms, kiss those sweet lips, and talk face to face.  The plane couldn’t land soon enough. 

Stepping off the jet, I rushed to the bathroom to freshen up.  I tousled my hair, spritzed on some of my signature smell, applied more blush (but just enough to appear rosy and sweet), gave my reflection a quick smile, and practically ran to baggage claim.  Being the teeny airport that it was, I immediately noticed that he wasn’t here yet.  I felt a sting of disappointment, but hurriedly brushed it aside, as I was sure I’d see my man walking through those revolving doors at any moment.  Texting him of my arrival, I waited expectantly by the window.  Night was falling and the humidity was oppressing.  I decided I’d stay inside where the cool air conditioned room felt nice. 

Minutes ticked by with no response or sight of Travis.  My mind was racing back and forth between concern and bafflement.  He couldn’t have forgotten – we had just talked this morning!  Surely, he’s late for good reason.  I hope he’s okay… Where is he???  As time marched on and I eventually was left alone, sitting pathetically by my luggage, my feelings of disappointment evolved into frustration and then to anger.  Hot tears of irritation slipped unwillingly down my powdered cheeks as the time now announced Travis as two hours late.  Picking up my cell phone, about to call Lisa and ask her what I should do, Travis blew through the door.  His face wore an expression of stress, mixed with concern as he saw my tears.  He was dressed to the hilt, in a button up and slacks.  The top buttons of his shirt were now undone, and sweat lined his collar line.  “Jen…” he reached for me and I could tell he was searching for the right words.  But I was annoyed, past annoyed.  Who leaves their girlfriend waiting two hours in a random airport? 

“Hey,” I greeted him nonchalantly, evading his open arms.  “Can you grab my bag?  It’s heavy.”  And I brushed past him, out into the sticky, night air. 

Travis followed, downtrodden.  I knew I was being stubborn, that he probably had a good excuse to his tardiness, but my mind was still in a huff, not prepared for my shattered expectations of how this reunion would be.  I was obstinate, and still had a long way to go in learning flexibility and forgiveness.  We both got into his Jeep, silent as the night around us.  I could see that I was hurting him with my distant manner, yet I didn’t know how to right it.  To say our hour-long drive to Tommy and Olivia’s apartment was awkward would be an understatement.  The atmosphere in the car was as heavy and oppressive as the humid air outside.  Both of us knew not what to say after just minutes of being together in the same state, the same vicinity, the same car.  Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as I stared out the window into the black night.  My heart felt so heavy.  Maybe I shouldn’t have come, I thought to myself.  What are we doing?  We don’t even know how to get along in person… dating long-distance is a joke.  I brushed my tears away discretely, hoping he wouldn’t notice the movement out of the corner of his eye.  He did.  Tentatively reaching his hand over, he found my fingers and touched me lightly.  “Jen?”

The feeling of his skin sent tingles up my arm, sending my heart racing.  Man, I had forgotten how good it felt to be touched by him.  Two and a half long months of no physical contact seemed so very long now.  All of a sudden, I missed his arms around me, his smell embedded into me, his hand clasped tightly around mine.  

Turning to him, the tears poured forth readily.  “I’m sorry.  I’m such a jerk.  I don’t know why I took it so hard.  I just so wanted you to be there when I got off the plane.  I didn’t understand why you had to be late.  I just … I just… missed you and wanted you there.  It just wasn’t how I expected it.  I’m sorry…” and I wiped my sleeved arm across my running nose.

By now, his grip was no longer tentative, but sure and reassuring.  He glanced between me and the road before us, while explaining he had gotten lost, as he’s prone to do, and then got lost even more.  His cell phone ran out of batteries, preventing him from giving me a heads up.  He was mortified and deeply apologetic.  Breathing a deep sigh, we settled back into our seats.  We kept the silence, but this time, our fingers were heavenly entwined.  Why I had to be so emotional and psychopathic was beyond me.  I felt exhausted already from the tizzy I had sent myself in and the weekend had just begun. 

*

Our weekend fluttered by in a matter of minutes – or so it seemed.  Our two days were filled with swimming, meals out, running the beach, card games, reading, and lots of glorious time outside.  I always believed summer makes everything more charming, and this weekend was no exception.  Our skin turned copper, my cheeks were a constant blooming rose.  Flip flops and b-b-q’s left me believing life really was this easy, this simple.  This was where I was truly supposed to be: by my man, doing life, always warm, and supremely happy.  Not thousands of miles apart, in school, bundling up in the Minnesota falls (preparing for winter hibernation, nonetheless).  I didn’t want these days to end.

He took me out for a nice dinner our last evening.  It was a hole-in-the-wall joint where we dined on seafood.  The sun was beginning to set as we finished, yet all I wanted to do was sit across from him at our booth and stare at his rugged face.  I loved that face, and the thought of leaving it tomorrow morning nearly killed me.  

“C’mon,” he said.  “Let’s go walk the town.”

And so we did.  We walked and walked, then walked some more.  The light eventually grew dim, but having Travis by my side was my warmth and security.  Talking about everything, it was so natural to be together.  He lead me to a dock, on the edge of the Atlantic.  Waves slowly pumped the shore in rhythm as we leant over the railing and stared into the deep waters.  A comfortable silence ensued as we both had one reigning question dominate our minds: where we going and how were we ever going to survive this painful, long-distance separation?  During the past two and a half months apart I had grown accustomed to not seeing him, not feeling the loss of him in my everyday life.  I didn’t want that to happen again.  I wanted him.  But where was he?  We had never broached the subject of the future of “us” for as long as we’ve been dating. 

As if reading my mind, Travis suddenly said my name, “Jen?”

“Yes?” I turned to him breathlessly.  He looked as if he wanted to ask me something serious.  I was on the tips of my toes.

After a couple of moments of silence, he burst out with “What will become of us, Rave?” in a dramatic sort of voice.  Ugh, I thought.  We had watched “Pearl Harbor” the other night and that line cracked him up.  It was the romantic night before Rave and his buddy went off to war, and the beautiful nurse leaned back in Rave’s arms and sighed, “What will become of us, Rave?”  Trav had been saying it on and off ever since the movie.  It was driving me nuts, especially now when my mind was truly preoccupied with what was going to become of us.  Rolling my eyes, I turned back away from him and sighed heavily into the night. 

“What?” he questioned.  “Sorry, I’ll stop saying that.  Jen, what is it?”

“Nothing, I just thought you really had something serious you were going to say to me,” I admitted honestly.

“Oh.”  He was quiet.  Had I scared him?  I silently hoped not.  Maybe he just wasn’t ready for this conversation.  “Well, I do have something I wanted to ask you…” his voice drifted off.

Immediately my eyes were riveted on him.  Yesssss…..?? I encouraged him inwardly.

Turning away from me, this time, he placed both well-developed forearms on the wooden rail.  I watched as the muscles flexed with his concentration.  Those arms could forever capture my attention.  “Well, I’ve been thinking about you.  And me.  A lot.  I love being with you, Jenny.  And I love you.  And I hate being away from you.”  He twisted to peer at me.  My interest was fully on him.  “And, well,” he continued, “this next summer I’m heading into pilot training.  In July.  I’m still waiting to hear where I’ll be stationed, but I’m assuming it’ll be in the south.  It’s a year-long program and very intense.  Many guys say it’s the hardest year of their life.”  He paused and stared back at the dark ocean.  The sound of the lapping water was all that separated us.  “I want you to be with me.”  He looked at me with conviction now.  “Will you consider moving south with me after you graduate?  I know it’s a little sudden for me to say this, and a big thing to think about, but all I know is how much I need you with me.  You don’t have to give me an answer now, but will you be thinking about it?” 

His hands grasped my small forearms now.  Kissing me lightly, he pulled me to himself.  Breathing in the scent of my hair, he whispered, “Gosh, I love you, Jenny.”