Rain.
I watch it fall through the window of my dorm room, leaning against the wall beside it as I kneel on my bed, my legs tucked beneath my weight. The tears that stain my cheeks feel cold against my skin, gathering at my chin and dripping onto the hand-written letter sitting on my lap. My lip trembles, a soft sob passing my lips as my eyebrows furrow, the bridge of my nose stinging.
What did I do..?
My gaze falls to the piece of paper, and through my hazy vision, I re-read the lines over and over again:
‘Ely,
I’ve been staring at this sheet of paper for the past two hours, unsure of how to tell you what I need to say. Ely, my dearest Ely, I love you. I will always love you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. You see, I once dreamt about you. Before we met, I had a dream about meeting you. You were standing near the waterfall of our favorite park, wearing that bitsy blue dress of yours that I love so much, and you looked at me and smiled.
I don’t know why, but when I woke up from that dream, I knew. I just knew someday I’d meet you and I’d ask you to marry me. I envisioned a life where I’d come home to you, my beautiful wife, and the daughter we’d name Naomi.
Ely, I love you. I love you, but I can’t stay with you. I wish I could. With everything inside me, I wish I could have you for the rest of my life, but I’m not the same man I was when we met. I won’t ever be the same man again, and it’s not fair to you. You deserve more.
Ely, my dearest Ely. Please, live. Live your life to the fullest. Be happy. Live.
I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me, and maybe in another life, we’ll meet again. In another life, where the world isn’t so cruel, my dream—you—I’ll be blessed to live.
-Cade’
Tears splotch the black ink, my hands trembling as a hiccup rips from my chest. I shift my hand, placing it flat over the letter, and as I look down at the shiny diamond ring on my finger, I wish, with everything inside me, I could disappear—fade away into nothing.
⊰ Three Years Later ⊱
“Alright, Bubbles. It’s official!”
I clap my hands in excitement, looking down at my two-year-old Saint Bernard as he wiggles his butt to lower himself onto the dark gray rug of the living room. “This is home,” I breathe out in contentment.
It’s been two weeks since I packed up my apartment and moved half-way across the country for a new job opportunity. It’s never the packing that gets me. Packing? I’m excited for. It’s the unpacking that, for the life of me, I dread to no end. It’s the unloading, unboxing, tossing, and rearranging for me, really. So…essentially all of it.
Today, however, I unpacked the last box, thus making the move official.
Well, in my head, it does, anyway.
I exhale deeply, watching as Bubbles keeps eyeing me with anticipation in his eyes, his tail wagging dangerously behind him.
He knows. It’s that time of the day: we walk to the park so he can get tired and refuse to walk back.
Pain in my ass…
“Alright, let’s get going then,” I mutter as I move to the doorway, reaching for the leash hanging on one of the key holders next to the front door.
In one swift motion, I clip the leash to his collar and pull the door open. As always, he’s a good boy and sits, following quickly beside me as I take the first step out. People hardly talk about this, but the fact that they make doorlocks that don’t require you to insert a key is the greatest invention of mankind.
Okay, that is a little bit of an exaggeration.
It’s just convenient. I wave the little keyfob over the monitor, and it peeps. I turn the lock, and it locks. How cool is that?
The convenience of living on the first floor cannot be overlooked, especially when you do your own grocery shopping and have to take your dog out multiple times daily. Unfortunately, I can’t say that I had the luxury of picking the first floor because I got stuck on the third floor. And with no elevators? My life is ass. Absolute ass.
Here goes cardio, I guess.
Bubbles walks closely beside me as we descend the flights of stairs and head down the street. The park is only a block away from my apartment and the gym that I just signed up for is one block away in the opposite direction, purposefully so.
After having to do one-hour commutes to school and to the gym back when I was in college for nearly five years, I avoid driving if I have to. I hate to be that person, but COVID may very well have been the best thing that ever happened to me.
You know how people say that they’re homebodies but they aren’t actually homebodies? Yeah…that’s not me. I love being at home. In fact, if I never had to leave home, I probably never would. It’s not that I don’t like people. It’s that I don’t like stupid people. And it’s not that I’m arrogant. It’s that when your IQ is well above average, almost everyone seems stupid to you.
Just like this past Sunday, the park is relatively empty. Personally, my favorite part about coming to the park is the little food truck that parks across from the park. They make this amazing coconut boba milk tea.