What should’ve happened

We meet during a weird time in both of our lives, but I think that’s probably why it works out so easily — because we’re both very messy and for some reason both of us need another messy person to feel more at ease. We explore the city together and declare that it’s the greatest city in the world. We don’t live there. It’s temporary. We promise everything is fine and that we’ll continue being messy and messy for each other, just from different places. Eventually, we decide, we’ll find our way back to the same city. Maybe even this city, if we’re lucky. So we live out the rest of the next few weeks as if we’ll never see each other again, even though we tell ourselves that’s not true. The next few months are punctuated by visits and long talks on the phone — quietly, so my roommate doesn’t hear through the walls — and I’m exhausted the next day at work, but it’s worth it. And then it happens: we’re back together. We’re in walking distance for me (I love to walk) and only a bus ride away for you (you hate walking). And everything comes together — everyone who ever said that everything works out was completely right and all the shit I dealt with the last two (three?) years makes complete sense and all the shit you dealt with the last year (especially in the Spring) makes complete sense, because we’re in the same city together again. It’s not the greatest city like we had planned, but we’re together again. And it feels like the end of the movie and the credits will roll at any second and some bubbly music will play and I will never feel sad or lonely or angry or numb ever ever ever ever ever ever ever again.

What happened

We meet during a weird time in both of our lives, but I think that’s probably why it works out so easily — because we’re both very messy and for some reason both of us need another messy person to feel more at ease. We explore the city together and declare that it’s the greatest city in the world. We don’t live there. It’s temporary. We promise everything is fine and that we’ll continue being messy and messy for each other, just from different places. Eventually, we decide, we’ll find our way back to the same city. Maybe even this city, if we’re lucky. Except I start cleaning up and wiping everything down and putting things away neatly into little packaged boxes, and you continue to be messy. We are not what each other needs anymore. I move to a completely different city than I had planned and you move to a completely different city than you had planned. You hit ignore when I call. I walk around everywhere and I think you have a car (parking spot included with your rent), although I’ve never been in it. Nothing comes together — everyone who ever said that everything works out was completely wrong and all that shit I dealt with the last two (three?) years did not contribute to me getting to where I am now (I try to forget about it most of the time) and I don’t know how you ended up dealing with all the shit that happened to you in the last year. It feels like the middle of the movie where nothing is really happening. That’s usually my favorite part of the movie — I love movies where nothing happens — but sometimes I go a whole day without thinking about you and I don’t think you think about me at all. I hate that city now.