I fell in love again.
I saw her way before she'd seen me. Which was surprising, because I was already a couple drinks in, and I had a reputation for being sort of a lightweight. But if she had seen me before she actually walked up to me, then I guess it must have been because she was just as nervous as I was. It had been a long, long time.
She asked me how long I'd been here. I loved that. No basic formalities with this girl - no "hi, do you remember me?" or even "how've you been?" She was so confident in her strides, even when you knew she was chickenshit. I told her I couldn't really remember. Which is usually true. I never knew what day of the month it was, or the week for that matter. I never even kept a watch because I didn't care. When I was seventeen years old I broke every clock in the house one day just because I was sick of time dictating what I did. And I've never really looked back from that moment.
But this was different. I knew exactly how long I'd been here - four months, nine days. I usually didn't care when I got to wherever it was I happened to be, or how long I stayed. But this really was different. I could never forget Chicago. All the little details, all the novelties and little sentimental moments all my principles stood against, the whole facade was dropped here. I can't kid myself in Chicago. I don't think I ever will.
I didn't really know what to say, so I started asking about a couple of people from back in Virginia I was genuinely curious about. I guess nobody's story turned out to be anything unexpected when you consider the character that made it up. The people I expected to get knocked up early got knocked up early. The people I expected to drop out of college dropped out of college. The people I expected to work hard as a middle class white collar worker to get fruitless satisfaction out of it...well, you get the picture. Except maybe Donnie. I guess I just never really expected anything out of Donnie because I didn't really like him too much. I still felt sorry for him though, because the guy had the worst luck in the world. But I just couldn't help but not like him in the first place because the guy was just so incredibly unimaginative. All he ever talked about was starting his own winery. When it came to dreams and ambitions, or just anything aside from schoolwork or other people, it was always again and again with the damn winery. He was just such an unambitious guy, and he never followed through with anything, and I guess it was just kind of hard to respect him for it. But whenever he failed at anything else, he always fell back on the Winery idea, and by god that's exactly what became of him. He's not rich or anything, he's still making 5 figures annually, but he's certainly doing alright. I felt happy for him when I heard it.
After I'd run out of little side topics, I just sort of braced myself. I didn't know what else to do. It would've been easy enough to talk about shit noone really cares about until we got tired and drunk and went our separate ways. But I knew she would eat me alive, or worse, bore me to death. You never ever try small talk with Charlotte. It's honestly easier to just face the music.
"I'm not exactly looking for closure or anything," she started in. It was such a point of no return for her. I felt the obligation to take it easy on the poor girl. "But I guess what I need to know more than anything is whether or not you have any regrets."
Hell of a way to phrase it. Of course I have regrets. Jesus. It was so irritating I almost threw up the classic cold and stoic nature, and told her hell no I didn't have any regrets, and I only wish I had a chance to do it again. But no. I know I've grown up since the last time I saw those quiet emerald eyes. And it's time I proved it to myself, if noone else. It's time to tell the truth before I can think about it.
"Yeah. I always had regrets. The day I left, all I could think about was regretting I had ever put myself through that again. I was in that car for eleven hours straight, and it was all I could do to not kick my own ass for not having bailed sooner. I let myself love and hate it all too much before I'd gotten out, and it hurt like hell at first. I knew it would. And I tried to be spiteful. I tried to say 'I told you so' to make myself feel better, but I was only talking to myself. And it hurt like hell anyway.
"I got over that pretty quickly though. I had a lot of distractions around me to keep me from dwelling on it too much. After the first few days I had to focus more on basic survival needs than abandoning everything I ever had. It was a hell of a year, really. Once I'd kind of gotten my feet on the ground though I started to think about it more and more. And I really felt bad about it, because I knew how much the whole thing meant to you. And I just shattered everything. It felt so out of character for me to feel bad for someone who I didn't really feel deserved it. But I did anyway. Honestly, it's not like you were the first or the last that I completely abandoned. But I don't know, it just felt different this time. It was just so unceremonious - no flowers, no telling your parents about it, no cuts, no scrapes, no dramatics, no endless skies, no endless seas. I didn't even have the decency to recite the lyrics to Freebird or anything. And again, it's not like you were the first, and it's not like I haven't done it since to girls who were even better people than you. And I didn't ever feel bad for them. But I felt so bad about you.
"Maybe it was you. And you were the one who made the difference. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was the time period I was in. Maybe it was just us, and something about the relationship. But it didn't ever feel like it. And that's why it was so damn weird. But for the longest time, I felt like I owed you so much, because I'd taken so much away from you. And I think that's the answer that you're really looking for. You're not a bad person for it. It's just your nature. You want me to feel so indebted to you. And you want me to feel like I would do anything to make it up to you, because I know you haven't given up on this and you probably never will. I felt like that for a long time.
"But now that I'm here, I feel so different. I've seen so many people, and I've done so many things since then. I've cried a lot since the last time I saw you. But it was all for freedom, because now I know what that really means. And I know the price we pay for true freedom. I know what I am, and I know what I've done. And I'm not a bad person, and neither are you, and I don't know that it would make a difference if we were. Is it you, is it me? That's a stupid question. Neither one of us lost control, because I don't think we ever had it in the first place. And that's what was killing you in the first place. So now I know, that what happened wasn't right, wrong, or indifferent. Because there's no rules to this. All of this. Any of this. Life, and all of it. There's just what happens. But do I have regrets? Yes. Yes, I have regrets. They're just different regrets. I regret that I never even tried. I regret that I gave up on you so quickly, and that I was so eager to just jump in a truck and drive until I died. But I never did die. And now that I'm here, well, I'm here. And you're there.
"But does that mean we should ever try to backtrack? Is that what you came in here for? You want me to just move back to Virginia with you. You want me to die in that small town with you for punishment of what I took away when it still meant something. Well, just because you miss something, doesn't mean you should ever go back. Don't pretend it would be the same as it was before. It's not worth it. Not to you, and not to me."
She was silent the whole time. She listened. She was patient. I loved her for that. She finally spoke. "I don't even have to defend myself. I mean, it's like, with every argument you make, you develop a counter argument for me, and then you defeat it. It's like you're having a conversation for me. And that got soooo annoying to so many people I saw you around. I loved it. I still do love it. But god, do I hate that it has to be coming from you.
"You see right through me. And I hate it, and I love it, and it feels so secure, and so truthful, but it's the truth that hurts so much."
And that was it. All this time, and all this rambling, just to find the answer why here. It was her. It really was because of her that I fell so damn hard for the whole thing. That's what made the difference. She was a city person. Not just someone I could relate to, but someone who thinks and feels on the same level that I do. Everything else just seems so weak and strange or otherwise unnecessary when you finally feel like you're not alone. And that's what makes it so hard. It's so easy to think you're in love, when in reality, it's just that you're not alone. And there's nothing more overwhelming in the world than that feeling. Not even love. You come to expect love as you grow up hearing about it in fairy tales and pop songs. You never see this part of life coming.
It was so hard to speak, but I did it anyway. "I made a lot of mistakes. But I know where I am, and I know how I really feel. And it took something like Chicago to bring it out of me. But I know I'll have to leave you behind, Charlotte."
She sighed. "Well, there's no point in being miserable about it anymore. But there's no point in being detached either, or in trying to keep touch. It's like we've lost all our influence over this because we already know how it's going to end. And it's strange, that isn't really sad, but it still makes me feel so defeated."
"Don't ever cry because it's over," I said. "Smile because it happened."
She scoffed out a smile. "Talk about out of character..." It was so sassy and beautiful it almost made me crawl out of myself right there. And then it was gone just as quickly as I came. By now I had moved on from the bourbon to just coffee, and I stirred it slowly.
She stood up and grabbed her coat to leave. I tried to pretend like I wasn't watching her. She finally approached me, and kissed me on the forehead. It felt so familiar that I couldn't feel anything emotional about it. "I didn't ever expect to see you again. But I knew as soon as I woke up this morning I couldn't ever win you back. It's so obvious how much you've changed. And for all the busted stuff you've left behind, I just happened to catch you in a transitional period. Which, for you of course, is a period where you're not moving at all.
"But I know where you're coming from now, and it doesn't matter whether I'm content with that or not, but I think I am anyway." She smiled. She raised her eyebrows and threw her hands out at her sides. "All things go," she said. It felt like she'd said it a hundred thousand times, all in the same fleeting, self-echoing motion. All things go.
I didn't watch her walk out. But I felt it. I kept stirring my coffee. I wasn't thinking though. Except about the last thing she'd said. For the first time since I'd abandoned her, I didn't regret a thing. All things go. Hmm. That's Chicago for ya.
....I fell in love again.
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- inspired mostly by the Sufjan Stevens song, to which the lyrics are referenced here several times.