without her

I lay awake at night thinking about her. The girl of my dreams, although I cannot seem to dream about her anymore. She came into my life so abruptly, so randomly. I can still smell the coffee on that cool, September evening. The coffee wasn’t important. It was those blue eyes of hers. Whenever she spoke, it was like music. Sweet melodies inviting me in. We barely knew one another, yet spent the night as close as friends of years on end. As I left, she stood on the stoop, watching me go. She knew that I would return, only not soon enough. I would wait up for her, and she would finally come through the door, weary from a long day of school and work, ready to just cuddle up on the couch, watch a movie, and inevitability fall asleep. When she was ready to leave, we just held each other until our legs were about to give out. Then it happened. We kissed. It was sweet. A wonderful taste that I’ll not soon forget. I had to immediately call a friend of mine to tell her how happy I was and that I tasted like Katie. It started to get colder. We only got warmer. That warmth protected me on the cold nights we would sit under the stars with each other. She was always there. When I got sick, she was there for me. We went to a showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, I felt terrible and felt great at the same time. She couldn’t help herself but to hold me, kiss me repeatedly. It felt good. She came over one night to hang out with my friends and me. We sat around the table singing songs ridiculously loud and drunk. She didn’t mind, she even joined in. She held my hand, and when she was tired, went upstairs. When I came up, she was there, waiting for me, curled up on the floor because I hadn’t had the bed made just yet. It was cute. I remember going to see Across the Universe with her. It was our first official “real” date. Little did I know that Something would become our song. She had never had a song before. We loved The Beatles, and I loved her. She asked me to come by the theater where she was working one night, alone. I rode as fast as I could, I came in, she was excited, she wanted me. I wanted her just as much. We hung out, we kissed, then I let her get back to her work, as was the frequent custom. There was a cast party after her show, I didn’t know her friends all that well, but they all seemed to like me. They liked us. They thought we were cute together. Later that evening, we were the beer pong champs. We smoked the competition. That is until our last game. We went a little overboard, and she was sick this time. I went upstairs to check on her. She didn’t want me to see her like this, but all I wanted to do was help her. She felt embarrassed, but I thought she was being ridiculous. Then it happened. She said it. Those three magic words: “I love you”. Finally, I could say it to her without her getting freaked out or something. “I love you too”. Man did that feel good. She came home with me, she was okay by then, but I could tell I wasn’t going to be pretty the next morning. Of course I wasn’t. I was severely hung over, but that didn’t stop us from expressing ourselves with one another. I asked her if she wanted to make love, and she told me about her past and what this meant to her, after which I felt like I shouldn’t put so much pressure on her and changed my mind, yet she pushed on, and wanted it. So we did. It was amazing. Although it was early and I was hung over from the night before, it was still amazing. Afterwards, we were inseparable. Constant phone calls and ims to one another. We shared in every activity. During Christmas break, we missed each other tremendously. We visited the other’s hometowns and stayed at the other’s houses. Her sister was getting married in January, I was her date. I got to meet all of her extended family and experience yet another Catholic service, which I didn’t mind, because it was a beautiful occasion, and she was simply gorgeous. It seemed like she became more beautiful every time I saw her. I couldn’t believe that I was with her, and yet didn’t appreciate it enough. Come February 14^th, Valentine’s Day, I set out to show her my devotion and appreciation. I bought her chocolates, two dozen roses, and made her a mix CD. I wore a shirt and tie and surprised her after her Romeo and Juliet rehearsal. We listened to the mix CD as I drove her to one of our favorite restaurants, Addison’s. It was there that we enjoyed a wonderful meal, complete with an expensive bottle of wine. She looked radiant that night. This is when I gave her the necklace. A small, white gold heart with diamonds. She was stunned. She couldn’t stop showing it to everyone over the next few weeks. Given she was expecting an engagement ring, she was slightly relieved it wasn’t so committing. She actually joked about it, saying not to do that for another year. In March, we went to see a cover band of one of our favorite groups, Led Zeppelin. We sat, listening to some of our favorite music, had some drinks, and she held me close. It was perfect. It was nice one day and her and her roommate decided to wash cars at their house. They called me over and washed my car for me. Afterwards, we went inside so she could dry off. She took everything off and lounged around naked for a while. Simply breathtaking. We laid on the bed, I sensually massaged her back, when she realized that she had to be at a rehearsal of a show she was doing for a friend of hers. She was late and so angry at the fact that we couldn’t stay there and be intimate that evening. She said: “I promise we’ll come back and have lots of sex”. We did. From then on, things were still okay, but were slipping. She seemed to be more distant at times, colder, extracted. We were still together, still shared intimate relations, but normal interactions began to suffer. She didn’t seem as emotionally available anymore and things just weren’t the same. There was a time where I came over to work on a monologue final, and she just wasn’t there in the same capacity. I felt neglected. It made me angry. But as I left, I think she realized how I felt and said: “I love you, kid”. This in itself made me feel so much better, gave me hope, confidence toward the future. Things went back and forth for a while, and it came to a point to where she had to take a trip to Chicago for a presentation of one of her majors. I spent the weekend with some friends and felt okay. When she returned, I picked her up and we spent the evening together. We saw a movie and came back to my place. She spent the night, I came to bed and she spoke these words, the words I will never forget for the rest of my life: “Get on top and I’ll make it worth your while”. I certainly accepted, we made love again and I went to sleep, her lying next to me. What I should have heard was: “Get on top and I’ll leave you”. The next morning, we went for breakfast and she had to leave to go to church. This would be the last time I saw her as she once was, in love with me. The next evening, I heard the front door open, the jingle of her keys, I was excited. She came through my door not looking like herself. She told me she had bad news. Things didn’t feel the same anymore, she felt herself pushing away, and that it wasn’t fair to me. It was devastating. We talked things over and she left that night, separated. As I heard the door close, my heart split in two. We still tried at the relationship soon after, but after spending another day together, like old times, and after a lot of thinking, she ended it. She was gone just as quickly as she had appeared. It was surreal. Nothing felt the same anymore. She was no longer there every night. She was no longer calling me everyday. She was cut off completely. I’ve seen her room since. The portrait I painted for her is now hidden behind a clutter on her dresser. The sheets on her bed, the bigger bed she bought for us to share, were changed. She lied and said that she changed them because she got them all nasty due to sweating and such while sleeping. But I know the truth. We had soiled those sheets during our intimacy, and she no longer wanted to be in them. Now I spend my time alone, thinking about the best period of my life, with her. I look to the skies and stars, pleading, praying to relatives and friends in heaven for answers. I crawl into bed now, the very same bed that we once shared, cold and alone.