While I was aimlessly perusing my old, forgotten blogs, I came across this draft from five years ago. While I have no recollection of writing this, I do remember the events – and the feelings – surrounding this time in my life as well as my experiences with “The Kraz.” It’s actually a little jarring to come across such a vulnerable and intimately personal piece as this. But I feel now because I am separated from this event by the passage of time, that I can finally dust it off and share it.
“You’re beautiful, did you know that?” he whispered to me, gently brushing back a strand of black hair from my eyes. My hair always seemed to get in the way.
It was two a.m. but neither of us seemed to mind. When I was with him, time seemed irrelevant. It was if the whole earth stood still as we held each other close.
His whisper hung in the air for a long time. It was posed as a question, but it was a statement. A declaration.
I smiled back at him through the dimness, gazing into two brilliantly blue eyes. There was depth in them, and a glint of glowing admiration. I wondered, idly, what he could see through them that I couldn’t see.
This was love. Not only was this love, but it was love like I had never known. Never in my wildest imagination could I have believed that someone so handsome, clever, and kind would ever like me, much less love me. He was my jackpot.
I had first met him in February, when I was still dating someone else. It was inventory day and he had just come back from two years in Russia to return to his old job–the position that I had filled when he had left. Luckily, I was kept on and we became coworkers.
“Are you bringing your boyfriend to the work party tonight?” My boss asked me that first day I met the Kraz. I shook my head, looking over at the rest of my coworkers. The Kraz, that attractive-looking new guy, looked a little stunned. Was he really jealous? Over me? I quickly brushed the thought away. No guy like that would ever like someone like me.
That period of my life, though it was only this year, is a blurred one full of pain. My boyfriend of 9 months let me go. It was a difficult relationship from the start, as though everything had conspired against us. We were like two mismatched halves and I was determined to make us fit together. I had fought tooth and nail to preserve the dying embers of a relationship that was doomed from the start.
At last, we finally came grinding to a halt. I was nothing more than an empty shell at that point, but I refused to acknowledge that everything I so desperately wanted was gone. Even though the Kraz was there as my friend all along, I was so busy chasing after a dead dream that I didn’t leave any room for possibilities . Although I didn’t realize it, I had let the Kraz slip through my fingers before anything between us had actually begun.
Time passed quickly from that point. I went back to my ex boyfriend, and the Kraz began dating a girl.
I broke up with my boyfriend. I missed him, but with how dysfunctional it all was, the clean break was like coming up for air again. I began hanging out with the Kraz more often at church after that. We became easy friends.
The Kraz broke up with his girlfriend, and for a short time, the planets aligned for us. I had prayed to God that he would send me someone kind, someone nice. He sent me him.
Loving him was like nothing I had ever known before. It was all like a wonderful dream. Everything clicked perfectly into place. We became inseparable.
I went to his apartment, met his friends, met his family. He put his arm around me, held me close. He held my hand in public. He wanted everyone to know that I was his and that he was all mine. And he was. For two incredible months I had his heart-every tiny piece of it. It was more than I could have ever asked for.
He took me on a road trip, planned dates, bought me things. I had never been so spoiled by a man before. He had told me how he had always thought that I was out of his league. I always laughed a little inside when he said that. He seemed millions of miles out of my league.
Every coming day just proved to me how great he was for me. He would continually do things that would make me step back and think, “I couldn’t have picked a nicer person for myself.”
And then… I started to doubt my own happiness. No one could be as blissfully happy as I was. I had never been that happy. It didn’t seem right. Doubt and fear began to creep in, blackening a seemingly perfect relationship.
I started to act out of fear instead of love. I found myself thinking that there was no way that he could love me. It was much too good to be true. I questioned his motives and his dedication to the relationship. I started to mourn the end of a relationship that hadn’t even ended.
It was, in fact, too good to be true. On the day marking only 2 short months of the relationship, he broke things off with me.
We sat there in the back of his Subaru for the remainder of the night. He held me tightly in his arms, wiping my tears and kissing my face. Watching his face crumple up as he shed tears was the hardest thing I have ever had to witness.
“I’ll be here as long as you need me to be,” he said, kissing my nose and chin and wrapping his warm arms around me. Daylight was approaching and it scared me. I knew that the moment the sun came up in the sky, he would have to leave. He would never be mine again.
The sun came up, he was gone, and my world temporarily fell to pieces. It felt a little like how I would imagine dying would feel. Losing a part of yourself, allowing the blackness to creep in. I wanted to stop time so that I wouldn’t have to move forward in life. Moving on was much too hard. It should never have been that hard. But he was the ultimate. He was my jackpot. And everyone knows that people don’t hit the jackpot twice.
“I don’t know what love is,” he admitted later to me after the dust of the wreckage of my heart had settled a little. So he didn’t love me after all. He loved his ex-girlfriend over the summer but he didn’t love me. In a way, his heart still belonged to her. It seemed appropriate given my luck, but it hurt. If only I hadn’t been so wrapped up in a dying dream, then perhaps I could have had him for real.
It was tarnished. The love I shared with him, those times he grasped my hand tightly seemed to fade into the darkness. The darkness was pervasive. I let it consume me. I welcomed it.
.I’ll never understand why things between us didn’t work out. There are times in my life where things have happened that I wondered if it wasn’t just my rotten luck. Perhaps, I wonder, happiness and I were never destined to be together.
I guess that only time will tell what happens to me. For now, I know that all I can do is hold my head high and accept that some things were never meant to be. Some dreams are just that–dreams. And even the most beautiful dreams have to end.