white petaled flower bloom close-up photography

White Carnations On The Back Porch

You were so much like me.
Sometimes, I admit, I forget that we once knew each other and that for a moment in time, we had something.
We were happy. You brought me white carnations and kisses on the cheek. We were so innocent and sweet. We were only just getting to know one another.

One night, while getting a caricature drawn in a bar that I no longer remember the name of now, we talked about our hopes and dreams. I mentioned Las Vegas, and you were all in. You were the first boy who was willing to let me live out my dreams. I felt so lucky.

But, we were so young and both so freshly hurt from past painful relationships. You were trying so hard to overcome your anxiety, while I was just trying to remember how to feel.

We were an anxious match made in heaven, just two scared, sad, and lonely 20-somethings trying to navigate a world not made for them.
We were so young.
We could have been anyone.

I remember that peaceful moment on the back porch where I really thought that this was it. Sitting there in the sunshine and wishing that moment could last forever, wishing I could count those freckles forever. That had to be the love they all talk about.

Conversation was easy from day one.
Coffee, anxiety, music. We could talk about it all.
We shared awkward laughter and nervous smiles; I never felt uncomfortable. Everything was just so easy. I had really hoped that you would never leave me.

One last shared cup of coffee.
One last sweet, awkward kiss.
You dropped me off at the train station and I never saw you again.

I knew deep down that the distance would be the death of us, but I still hoped that I was wrong. I crossed my fingers all summer that when I got back from Minnesota, you would still be there waiting, white carnations in hand. We would be able to pick up right where we left off and never lose each other again.

But that summer seemed to stretch on forever, and the distance was just too much. I tried and I tried to win you back, but I knew that I had already lost.

To the sweet anxious boy with the brown hair and the freckles,
Thank you.
Thank you for reminding me that being anxious does not mean that you are broken.
It just means that you need to be handled with care.

About the author
Like if a unicorn were a person going through an emo phase. Follow Becky on Instagram or read more articles from Becky on Thought Catalog.

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