Denial.
I knew denial well. Sprinkles fell on the windshield and I waited long enough until it was difficult to see before turning the windshield wipers on. The water washed away days of dirt and grime, which just reminded me that washing away camp meant washing away Autumn, and I wasn’t okay with that. This wasn’t happening. I had only known adult Autumn for a week, and thatwasn’t enough time to re-fall in love with someone. I had been constantly busy during long Autumnless windows of time, so it made even less sense for these feelings to be true. This was just a figment of my imagination, something I was building up into more than it was. I was remembering past feelings and present, which created a cocktail of confusion, but confusion didn’t equal love.
Anger.
It was easy to be angry over the way things played out. I gripped the steering wheel a little too tight, until my knuckles went white. She didn’t want me, and that was good to know, but it didn’t take away my frustration. We had something, I knew we did, even if she was too stubborn to see it. I was mad at Past Jamie for the way he treated her and wondered if I had earned back that trust in the small window of time I’d had her. But if she held my past mistakes against me, mistakes that took place ten years ago, then there was something wrong with her. I didn’t need her.
Bargaining.
Or… I could pull over and call her. Or text her. I hadn’t done so at my parents’ place because I wasn’t sure what would happen. She could respond, which might break me, or she could ignore me, which might be worse. What did opening the lines of communication even do? Maybe I could visit her again next summer. Maybe things would be different. Maybe she would see that this was real then. But that would be months without her. Months I didn’t think I could take.
Depression.
What hurt the most was the fact that I had offered to stay and she’d said no. Even if that seemed unbelievable, I was willing. “Total Eclipse of the Heart” poured through my speakers. It was probably one of the most dramatic songs in music history, and itwas screaming inside my head. Bonnie Tyler really understood me.
The only thing driving me to get home was the fact that I could sleep all weekend. Nap away this sadness. In my cold bed with my cold sheets. A bed I could spread out across because I had no one to kick me with their cold feet. God, was I missing bruised shins? I was truly pathetic.
Acceptance.
The drizzle came to a stop and sunbeams broke through the clouds. I could get over this. I had to.
But maybe I shouldn’t.
We had gone years apart, and after a short period of time, this wasn’t something that happened every day. Something that could even be guaranteed to happen again. No one was like her, and no one would ever live up to her. When it came down to it, all of these emotions only solidified what I had to do. Resolved, I wasn’t about to let love slip through my fingers again, not after years of knowing what I was missing.
