I am at such a loss for words. How did a couple weeks of talking about everything, letting each other in, sharing some of the hard stuff, planning our second date before planning our first. Then going on our first date which was amazing in every way.
You picked me up, came to the door, you wanted to meet my parents but no one was around. So you guided me down the steps and we drove away. You could tell I was nervous you made sure to keep conversation going. Easy. Comfortable. Nothing deep. We got to the movie theater, you parked the car. We sat and talked for a bit. You could still sense the nerves, my racing heart, and could see the endless thoughts going on in my head. So you took my hand, gently, and placed it on your knee and wrapped your hands around mine and told me it was okay. Being nervous is okay. That you were nervous too. You tightened your grip a little, telling me I was beautiful. I smiled. I could feel the pink rushing to my cheeks.
We got out of the car to walk into the movie. I wrapped my sweater around me cause as I told you before, I hate the cold. You walked close so I could feel your body heat. We got inside and somehow got on the topic of food. You asked me what it was that I didn’t like. I nervously laughed and said that it would be easier to tell you the list of what I do like. You chuckled. You asked if I like popcorn, I said yes. You then asked if I like extra butter on my popcorn, I smiled and said yes again. And you replied “good! That’s all we need to know tonight then.” That smile on your face. I’ll never forget it. You told me I could get anything as we walked up to the counter. All I wanted was a drink. So you ordered a popcorn for us to share, with extra butter of course. Then ordered us two drinks. We walked to the theater and got to our seats. We chatted for a bit while the trailers played. You checked the time, saw you had time to run to the bathroom and excused yourself.
I remember in that instant of the time I told a date I was going to the bathroom, and then ended up bailing on the date. So I looked at the empty seat next to me with a pit feeling in my stomach. Your jacket was still there. So I just hoped you were coming back. You did. You sat back down next to me, leaned in and asked me if I was excited. I smiled and said yes.
I don’t remember at what point during the movie it was, but your grabbed my hand ever so slightly, mostly just our fingers holding on. You leaned close, I scooted in my seat and laid my head on your shoulder. Your hand grabbed tighter onto mine. This felt right. Comfortable. Safe. At another point your hand moved to rubbing my knees. Just tracing your fingers over the knees of my pants. I had my arms wrapped around your forearm while you did it. This is what being treated right feels like. The nerves had officially melted away.
As we walked to the car after the movie you put your hand around my back and pulled me close to keep me warm cause I was shivering. The closeness, your warmth, it felt good. As you drove me home we talked. I apologized for being awkward and kind of silent. You chuckled, smiled at me, and reminded me that I have nothing to apologize for. Which is something you’ve told me at least 10 times prior. “You’re existing. You don’t have to apologize for existing or having emotions or a big heart.” We talked some more on the rest of the drive back to my house.
Once we pulled in, you parked the car. There was a little awkwardness there. Neither of us spoke. Then you turned to me, told me I looked beautiful tonight. You asked me if I had a good time. I said yes as the smile grew on my face. Then you leaned in and kissed me. Soft. Gentle. Your lips against mine. This was right. This moment was right. We kissed some more. Feeling the smiles from both of us in between. You asked me if you could walk me to my door. Of course I said yes. I was walking up the steps when your grabbed my butt playfully. You chuckled and said that I told you that you could. I chuckled too. And said “I sure did” and smiled.
You wrapped your arms around me. Pulling me in for a hug. Kissed me again. Everything felt right in that moment. The kiss, being in your arms. This is what it feels like to be treated like a queen. This is what it feels like to be treated right. We kissed again. I thanked you for the evening, told you to drive safe and to let me know when you got home. You promised you would. You texted me later that evening and said that you couldn’t wait to see me again. I couldn’t wait to see you again either.
I reflected on the evening. The conversations coming up to that night. You were so kind. You didn’t push, you always listened. You have such a big heart. An open heart. We laughed and joked. We had serious conversations too. Our dreams, our likes, there was so much in common. We clicked. It all just made so much sense and felt so right.
So why did you shatter my heart the very next day? “You’re a beautiful woman who has a lot to offer, I really did enjoy spending time with you.” I remember reading those words and being so confused. The connection. The feelings. It all felt so real. So right. So why did you shatter my heart? “You’re a beautiful woman who has a lot to offer,” yet you were letting me go. I cried. And I couldn’t stop crying. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t stop the tears. I still can’t. I don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense.
I found myself searching for comfort. But the only thing I wanted wasn’t a thing at all, it was my Papa. He always knew. Knew what to say. Knew when to just stay quiet and give me a hug so I could cry in to him. He always knew. I find myself still begging for his hug. For the comfort that only he can bring. I could hear him telling me that this was for the best. That you were man enough to tell me, and that I should never have to be the second choice. He’s right. I’m not a second choice. I’m it. I’m the one. Just not the one for you… and that part, that’s the part that I don’t understand.
For the first time ever, I was treated the way I always wished to be. My Papa would have been so proud of you. But you didn’t choose me back. And truly, that’s okay. But it just doesn’t make sense to me.
I spent the bulk of Tuesday in tears. My heart breaking a little more each minute that passed. You didn’t choose me back. We had barely just begun, and then it ended just as quick. It doesn’t make sense. You can’t fake that connection. The genuine feelings. That was real. And then it was gone, because you didn’t choose me back. You said you may regret it, and part of me hopes you do. I hope that in the next year you catch yourself wondering about me. And then you hear from Lauren how well I’m doing and I hope it makes you miss me. I hope it makes you sad. For no other reason than so you could feel just a tiny of what I felt Monday night.
I know I’ll be okay. I know I’m beautiful and strong and have so much to offer. I see my worth and know I’ll always deserve to be the one and only choice. Never second.
But it doesn’t hurt any less right now. One day it will. One day I’ll wake up and this won’t hurt anymore. I’ll be okay and I’ll be stronger for it. I may never know why you made the choice you did that following day, but I will always know it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with you.
Beautifully Chaotic 