“Soon,” I have decided/discovered, must be your favourite word.
“I’ll text you soon.”
“We’ll hang out, soon.”
“I’ll see you again, very soon.”
What is it about this word that you love so much? Why does this single syllable stick onto the end of every sentence that you speak to me? Why does this word have complete control over my every thought when it comes to you?
“Soon” is your safety net. It is my safety net. Each letter stretching out and catching us by each of our four limbs. It sits in the corner of our worlds, just waiting to be used—waiting to save us with its charming powers.
I think back to the last time that I saw you. Your car echoed with silence as you drove me home after a night of partying together. Although the events of the night remain questionable, we spent the night wrapped in each other’s embraces, a usual occurrence of the last couple of weeks. As we finally pulled up to my house, I looked into your eyes, and there I saw it. I saw you thinking about what had happened between us. I saw you thinking about what could happen. I saw you stumbling and losing your grip as you were realizing what this was becoming.
“Yeah, I know I’ll see you…” and as the clear word finds your wrists and pulls tight, it saves you, “…soon.”
It saves you from promises that you can’t keep, from plans that you don’t want to make, and from a relationship that you don’t want. The letters weave themselves from your hair to your tiptoes, working back and fourth, and enveloping your entire body. They harness your chest, working their way into your lungs, quietly slipping themselves into your dialogue, rescuing you with every breath that comes out of your mouth. The net holds your figure upright as you emerge, constantly reassuring you not to worry. You reassure me not to worry. Something will happen, it will, just…soon.
I carefully waited for my phone to illuminate with your name and the words that I want to hear. I waited, as my body worked itself up a mountain with images of your smile waiting around every corner, and memories of your soft touch guiding me along my uneven path. I waited, as I filled my mind with these visions of you, as I grew closer to the top. I tip-toed up to the peak as I waited. I felt myself wobble. I waited. I waited longer.
I still wait.
After weeks of waiting and wanting, I feel myself slowly descending into a canyon of what can only be described as complete self doubt, confusion, and rejection. But as I am falling, I hear a familiar tone, accompanied by your name in lights. ”Hey, we should get together, soon.” I feel a small hitch on my right ankle. My leg keeps me hanging in the translucent air, floating around in circles amid the foggy questions of the last month. I think back to previous conversations, ”I’ll take you out, soon.” I feel a slight pressure relieved from my right side as a slew of strings and memories creep their way out of the clouds and drag my entire body—feet first—back up to rocky ground. I feel those four letters squeeze me tight, imprinting themselves onto my arms, and seeping through my skin before I can object. My veins are suddenly saturated with a message of belonging again, a feeling of being needed. Being wanted. As these fabrications flow through my bloodstream, throughout my mind and body, they reach their final destination. My heart.
Your safety net saves you from commitment;
Mine saves me from disappointment. From reality.
So what is it about this word that I love so much? Maybe it is the vision of a future with you that it paints in my head. Maybe it is the daydreams that follow every time it appears upon the screen of my phone.
Or maybe, just maybe, it is the flash of hope that tells me that I might get over you, soon.
Please, just, soon.