I watched the clock intensely, waiting for dismissal to come so I could run to my friend’s car and inhale caffeine like it was my job. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Finally – the clock struck the hour and I was free. I rushed out, not talking to anyone on my way out and jumped into her car, knowing that that was my point of release. Tears began streaming down my face as I explained the embarrassment I had experienced the night before.
“You need to talk to him,” she encouraged me. I knew she was right, but I was terrified. I hummed and hawed all afternoon about whether or not it was a good idea to bring up what we mean to each other, to him.
That evening was the big graduation – the graduation that I wasn’t invited to. I watched the Snapchats of all of them dressing to perfection, looking as handsome as can be. Pictures showing the apple of my eye all dolled up in the tie and shirt that I picked out for him because he had no clue what would be good enough. Each, a reminder of how I wasn’t important enough to come and even more so, a reminder that it was time to have that dreaded conversation that would make or break our relationship…
Later that evening, after my friends and I hit the town to take my mind off of things, I received a text from him saying he wanted to come over. He had had a horrible time at the party and wished I had been there. I muffled my rage so I didn’t start a stupid argument. ‘I could have been there’ I screamed in my head.
Ignoring him, I continued on with my night, only to return home an hour later to a tipsy, apologetic boy on my doorstep. He reeked of mixed drinks, sweat an that cologne I love and was truly hard to resist. I was both annoyed and excited to see him at the same time. I pulled him inside and up to my room, greeting him with warm embraces.
An hour went by as reunited and as we lay there in bed afterwards, the moonlight streaming through my window, I knew it was time to bring up what had been troubling me since the evening before. I don’t know if it was the buzz I still had from the bar, or the perfect setting of him holding me in his arms, but I let it all spill out. How I was confused and how whatever this relationship was was starting to frighten me a little bit. How I had never felt anything like this before with another boy and how thinking about us not being together terrified me.
We talked for hours, both on the same page and coming to an agreement that this was the real deal. I had never felt this comfortable with a boy before, and while I was looking into his eyes as he stroked my hair and said all the right things…I realized that this is what I had been waiting for.
Of course this could end up in utter heartbreak (as many relationships can and do), but even if it does, it is moments like I experienced that night that make it all worth it. I’m not in love but I feel like I am free-falling to that very location.
With all of this being said, I am still completely and totally terrified. But in a good way.