Until it’s time for me to let him go.
Anabelle
“What are your plans this summer?”
I can’t meet his eyes as he hefts a large box, carrying and setting it next to the door. Elliot’s pile of boxes is growing, stacked in the living room.
The semester is over and he’s packed up, ready to leave, a summer internship already waiting for him a few states over.
“Work.” I shuffle my bare feet. “I’ll probably try to see my mom for at least a week or two in Massachusetts. She’ll expect a visit since it’s been an entire semester, making me basically the world’s crappiest daughter.”
“You’re hardly the crappiest.” He laughs. “I’m sure there are worse daughters in the world.”
I don’t know what to say next, so I go with, “Thank you for leaving the couch—it would suck having to sit on the floor.”
“No problem. It’s not like I could have taken it with me anyway.”
Everything he’s taking along on his journey has to fit in his car, and it’s not much. Just a few boxes, his bedding, computer, and toiletries from the bathroom.
“As it is, I only have room for a few more boxes, so…” Those mammoth hands of his get stuffed deep into the pockets of his cargo shorts.
I look around, surveying the landscape. The bare walls, the nearly empty rooms. “What about your TV?”
He hasn’t taken that out of his room yet.
“I’m leaving it for you.”
“Jeez, Elliot, I’m not keeping your TV.”
“Anabelle, can you not make a big production out of it? You can have my bed and the TV and you won’t have to sleep in that shitty twin anymore.”
“It’s not a shitty twin! It’s just tiny.”
Since I have one more year of school before graduation, I’m staying, in this town and in this house. Who knows, I might even find myself a roommate to rent out my old room.
“So this is it, huh? You’re doing it.”
Packing up and moving to Michigan.
“It’s really not that far.”
Six hours and forty-three minutes, or an hour-and-forty-five-minute flight…not that I Googled it or anything.
“No. It’s not that far I guess. I’m excited for you.”
But not for myself. I’m going to miss him, going to lose a bit of myself when he finally turns and walks out that door for the last time.
“We can text and follow each other on social media.”
“Great.”
“You don’t seem excited.”
That’s because I’m not! I want to shout. I’m devastated you’re leaving! My best friend is leaving to create a new life for himself, one that doesn’t include me.
“I’m excited, of course I am, don’t be silly. I’m just…I don’t know, Elliot. I’m pouting. Don’t even listen to me, okay? Don’t let me ruin your day.”
“Ruin my day? Do you think I’m happy about this?”
Then stay!
Stay and finish your education here.
I hang my head, unable to look him in the eyes, afraid of what I’ll see there. “I’m just being selfish.”
“It’s not selfish, Anabelle. It just means you care.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow it painfully when he adds, “You’ve been a really good friend to me.”
“Friends.”
“I thought that’s what you wanted—to be friends.”
“Of course I do! But I already have enough friends, even if most of them aren’t in Iowa, and now you’ll be long-distance, too.” Outside, cars drive slowly down the street. The sounds of the students a few houses down can be heard as they haul furniture to their curb. “You have to give me time to adjust, okay? I already miss you and you’re standing right in front of me.”
“Give you time? Time for what?”
“I’m losing someone I was just starting to, you know…love.”
“You don’t think I feel the same way?”
“As a friend? Of course.”
“No, Anabelle, I love you—I do.”
Why is he telling me this now, after all these months? Is he trying to destroy every piece of my already breaking heart?
“You love me?” I struggle to get the words out.
“Of course I do.”
“But you’re leaving, so tell me this… what difference does it make? Go chase your dream, Elliot.”
There’s an entire lifetime ahead of us.
“Anabelle, you know I have to move. Michigan has one of the best post-grad programs for kinesiology in the country, and I’m lucky to have been accepted. You just transferred, so I can’t ask you to come with me. We practically just met.”
“I know,” I answer miserably.
He steps forward, cupping my chin in his hands. “You’re so close to graduation yourself.”
“I wish you’d stop telling me things I already know.” I try to look away, but he won’t let me.
“It sucks, but it’s for the best. You’re going to graduate, and I’m going to get my master’s, and I’ll come visit every once in a while when I can. I just don’t see how long-distance can work right now.”
“It’s fine, Elliot. You already said you weren’t ready for a relationship and I respect that. I won’t pressure you. I’m mature enough to be okay with this. So, you can leave, and go with a clear conscience.” I falter, swallowing. “We’ll both miss each other, but we’ll get over it.”
Life goes on.
“Eventually, right?” His voice wavers. Shakes.
And I swear, I’ve never seen a guy’s eyes well with tears before, but Elliot’s are welling up now. I can barely stand looking at him. It’s killing me inside. It’s killing me knowing he’s leaving, moving halfway across the country.
Knowing he’s not going to be returning when classes resume in the fall.
“Jesus, don’t you dare cry, too,” I scold, bottom lip trembling when he wraps his strong arms around me, resting his forehead on mine. “Please, don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry, Ana.” His face is buried in my shoulder, in my hair, arms wrapped around me tightly. “I love you, I do, but I have to go.”
“You’re going to do amazing things, Elliot St. Charles. You’re the best roommate I’ve ever had.”
“I’ll be back for the holidays. It’s not like you’re getting rid of me forever.”
“But you’ll be old by then, maybe even have gray hair, and I’ll probably start dating Rex Gunderson and won’t remember your name.”
“I swear to fucking God, if you start dating Rex Gunderson, I will literally—”
“Literally what?”
“I don’t know, but it would crush me.”
An alarm goes off in his pocket, his cell phone chiming a gentle reminder that it’s time to leave.
He’s needed somewhere else.
“I have to go or I’ll be late meeting my parents.”
“All right.”
“Anabelle.” Elliot’s big, masculine hands take hold of my face. “I…I…”
I bow my head, wordlessly saying what my lips can’t.
I know.
Me too.
He presses his lips to mine, and I can taste the salt from our tears, his and mine.
“Just go.” I can barely get the whisper out of my throat, it’s so raw from emotion. “Get out of here.”
I give him a gentle shove toward the door and he takes a step over the threshold. Then another.
He nods, fighting back tears, but one escapes anyway and slides down his face, glistening in the sunlight.
I hate this. Hate it.
“Goodbye,” he mouths.
“Bye,” I mouth back.
Then I watch him walk away. Climb into his car, start the engine, idling.
He sits, staring at the little house we lived in together for one amazing semester—the best semester of my life—and I see him inhale a deep breath, clutching the steering wheel.