It’s amazing. I marvel at the universe for making it happen. And, why not? My grandpa married his French bride. An infatuation with someone different must run in my blood.
We used to joke about how you ‘sailed the seven seas’ to find me. We grew up in two completely different worlds-countries really; then you came to Boston while I moved from my home state to North Carolina. The fates brewed for three years while I started my teaching career and you finished school in Boston. Then, in a series of happy coincidences, you moved to North Carolina. We were 45 minutes from each other. The stage was set.
By mere chance, you happened upon me, and instantly our fates were sealed.
How marvelous is it when you pause and think about it? The universe brought us together. Sure, we could have stayed in worlds never colliding, but, instead, we came to be.
So, we embarked on a whirlwind summer romance. You taught me the glorious wonders of amazing Indian food, and I taught you the meanings behind all those silly American idioms. You called me JuJu-a nickname derived from a license plate-and I called you my milk chocolate bar- because you brown skin is gorgeous. You surprised me with flowers and random sticky notes about the house and I snuck love notes into your work bag.
No place felt more like home to me than your arms.
We didn’t honor what the fates had given us, and it was fitting that we watch it slip through our fingers. Suddenly, all of our glorious differences became our greatest grievances. We were each other’s foils. It wasn’t fun anymore.
We lost each other and couldn’t find our way back. We became strangers who couldn’t even talk to each other. We tried. God knows we tried to get back. And, sometimes in my mind’s eye, I see us going on numerous ice cream dates, picking out wedding songs, you putting a freshly picked rose in my hair, falling asleep in each other’s arms, our shopping trips, our late night walks by the lake… The sheer simplistic beauty makes me weep. It hurts knowing we can’t have that back.
There’s so much more I wanted to do with you-so much more I wanted to say.
I never loved someone like I did you. And, I don’t know if I can ever do it again. How many times does one get such an unlikely opportunity before it’s too late? What could we have been? What will you become without me?
What I will become without you?