You.

The saying goes something like ‘if you love two people at the same time, choose the second because if you loved the first one you wouldn’t have even thought about the second’. Something like that. You were the first, for a while. Then, life happened and we disconnected. Then connected again and you became the second. The second who was 1000’s of miles away. The second who I didn’t want to live without for one second.

We never mentioned dating, or love, or feelings. We just knew. That’s how it was with you though. Just knowing. I just knew that in your arms, even though I had never been, was the safest place I could have ever been. I just knew that the ‘sparkles’ between us would never fade for me. I just knew that if I had ever talked to you again, I would cave and leave first for second. That’s why we had to stop. We knew that this was a fatal attraction and that we would both end up on the side of the road, hearts taken from our chests.

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Part One.

It started September 9^th. I remember because this was the day that the leaves in my new town had started changing and things had started feeling like home finally. I was on some stupid dating site because I worked too much to go out, and truthfully wanted to find someone a little out of town. I found you. 100’s of miles away. Way too far out of my range for me to even consider dating. I messaged you back anyway, thinking you would just be someone who I would talk to, who I wouldn’t get feelings for.

I was wrong. The day after started talking, I knew there was something there. Something for us and it was magical. Like an actual f*****g fairy-tale. It’s funny now, because when I re-met you we joked about us being a fairy-tale and you were the knight in shining amour coming to rescue me from my s****y (at the time) relationship.

Back then, we talked about the simple things. Movies, our lives so far, and our dreams for the future. Eventually I scored enough to get your number, and I remember we would spend hours on the phone with each other. Just talking. About nothing. I remember how calming your voice was, I felt safe. Safer than I had ever been.

Like everyone else though, we started to drift. Eventually I had found someone in my town (much to my surprise) to date. He was here. He was a safer option. That was when we stopped talking. I had always wondered about you though. How you were doing, if you were dating someone. If you found love. All that kind of crap.

Then I broke down one day and messaged you, just to see how you were. In my head, I planned this being harmless. A quick message to see how life has been, and then you would be gone again. Instead, you asked me to text you and then it began again. I was stupid and naïve and I thought this was still some harmless chat. Of course I was wrong.

I know we never planned for it to happen, but it did. Soon we started Facebook video chatting every single day, because skype is a b***h with s****y internet connections and Facebook was just easy. At first it was just 20 minute calls, and I was excited to see your face. You were more beautiful than I had remembered. 20 minutes turned into 2 hours and I couldn’t go a single day without talking to you.

We were both so oblivious to what was happening. I don’t want to say we were falling in love, that sounds a little too extreme for 2 people who had never actually met, but the feelings were there and at least for me they were very real.

Our previous conversations about movies and nothing turned into conversations about moving and what would happen if I lived there. We kept up with our fairy-tale, saying you would work everyday, I would stay at home with the dogs and maybe even a child down the road, and when you got home at 5 ‘clock dinner would be 5 minutes away from being set on the table. We were happy in our own pretend little world.

It all comes crashing down on my birthday, when my current boyfriend found out I had been talking to you again. (I’m a terrible person for even talking to you while I have a boyfriend, don’t remind me, I know.) He told me I had to make a choice, him or you. A list of reason instantly flows into my head of pros and cons of staying or going. The pros of going out way the cons on staying. But I stay.

 

 

 

 

Part Two.

 

It’s been 4 weeks since I have been able to talk to you now. I mean sure, I could sneak around and lie to him. That’s not who I am though, and I won’t that to someone who loves me as much as he does.

I keep dreaming about you though. The dream I had last night was far too intense to forget, I was getting married to him. I could see him standing at the altar waiting for me. I walk down the aisle and everything is beautiful, just like I had imagined.  I get to the altar and the only words I hear from his mouth is how ugly my dress is and then he flees off to France. (I know right, who the f**k flees to France?). As I begin to crumble down to the floor making an ocean of tears around myself, there you are. You pick me up and tell me just how beautiful I am and make me feel whole and safe.

Let me tell you something, for someone who has never been in your arms I had a pretty good f*****g idea of how your arms felt. Strong, warm, and you smelled like woodsy aftershave.

Then I woke up. And he was still beside me and I had never felt so guilty about a dream in my life.

I don’t know where I go from here. The wedding date has been set. So here I am, just hoping you’ll show up in a stupid pick up truck and drive me off into the sunset, but that doesn’t really happen does it? 

Author's Note

ignore grammar, this is my first time. dont hate me.