Dear... Three Hours Away
I hope you're doing well. You live far away, but close enough where our paths could cross again.
I have so, so many questions for you. But here's the most important one: Why did you ask for my number the night we met?
Club hookups are not supposed to be like this. For me, it has always been the same routine for a while now. Find a guy, dance together for a bit, make out, politely refuse to go home with them, kiss them on the cheek, leave, run away, and never see them again. You were not like this. Yes, we did the first three things, but it was different. We talked, we laughed, we ran our hands on each other's arms for some reason as if there was no tomorrow. We were still talking and making out when your brother suddenly appeared and tried to whisk you away from me as if you were Cinderella and it was midnight.
You had to leave that night because otherwise, you wouldn't have had a place to stay that night. I understood. But before you left you asked for my contact. Why? This never happens. It was a fling. Purely from passion and drunkenness, no? You hastily grabbed your phone and opened up Facebook to try to get your phone to connect while your brother starts dragging you away. I put in my contact and you give me a final kiss and left. You hurried away after that and I thought that was weird, but I held it off and rejoined my friends. 5 minutes later I felt my phone go off. You started texting me.
We continued texting and I was so sure I was flirting with you. You didn't seem to get it. But that was ok. It went on the entire weekend. Non-stop texting. Good morning, goodnight.
I convinced you to go to the same club I was going with my friends three days later. You had to fly home the next morning and I was determined to see you before you left. I was done with you that morning. I told myself not to catch any feelings. But I did. I was lying to myself, and thinking about what would happen that night, I was distracted in class because I had no idea what was going on. I saw you that night by the bathroom but you didn't see me. I lost my friends in the club, but that was ok. We continued to look for each other until I reached the pool table. You were leaning on it, chatting with your brother, taking your phone out. I wondered if you were looking for me. I approached you and gave you a hug.
We leaned on the table and chatted for a bit, your arm behind me. I had no idea what to expect. I dragged you on the dance floor and we kept talking and dancing, stolen kisses in between. We sat and laughed at the people who were too drunk to dance. Took our headphones off to listen to drunken singing. I called you out for not knowing Stacy's Mom (HOW?!). You called me out for my terrible singing. I changed your channel as you changed mine. We were so in sync, I don't know how it was possible. Then you suggested we leave. You were staying a block from me anyway, so I agreed to go with you.
It was a 45 min walk from the club back to my apartment. We held hands the entire time. Talked the entire time. You complained that you were cold, and I offered my jacket to you. You said that you were not going to take a girl's jacket, so I kept it off in solidarity. In hindsight, I was a little drunk. It may have looked a little funny, actually. A girl in a tank top and shorts with a boy wearing jeans and a sweater. We were gonna go find food, but I suggested that I make you noodles instead.
We went up to my place and I put the kettle on. I offered you a drink but all of that was quickly forgotten. You held me in your arms for the rest of the night, where I just looked into your eyes and smiled. Running my hands through your curly hair, we kissed again. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was not supposed to fall for you. I'm never going to see you again. I just knew it even in that instant. I wanted that moment to last forever so so badly. I drifted off to sleep next to you, the best I've slept in weeks. The next morning your alarm went off and you were gone.
I still have that polaroid of you in my album. You were in my hoodie and was smiling at the camera while I explained that I liked taking pictures of people.
You're home now. We still talk. Kinda. Why? Was it because I asked you if you were going to ghost me after you left? You said you would continue to care, and I think you still do. I just wish you would tell me, or just give me a hint of what you think is going on between us.
I can't stop listening to one of the songs you recommended. The lyrics are literally the story of that night. We met at one, drank till two, you walked me home. If only the song told me what I was supposed to do next. For a weekend you made me feel like I was in a movie. It was one unexpected, but it was literally a rom-com. I just wonder if this is the middle of the movie where the main characters are separated or the ending
This wasn't supposed to happen, but I'm kinda glad it did. You taught me how to live in the moment, live life unexpectedly, and just go with it.
Thank you for that weekend, but like the song, I want more.