I've been putting my blog on hold for the past few weeks because this next story has been the hardest for me to tell. But tonight at my new job a song kept running through my head and is forcing these thoughts to the surface.
Two years ago, I met a beautiful Italian boy. He was here studying for his Master's Degree before starting his PhD in Paleontology. We didn't meet in the most innocent way. I fully admit that we met online with the full intent of having sex. As he didn't know his way around the city that well, I offered to come get him and help him navigate the subway system to my place in Queens. The moment we set eyes on each other on the steps of the Museum of Natural History, I didn't see anyone else. As we took the long train ride with transfers back to my place, he nervously chatted in his sometimes unsure and slightly broken English. Before either of us knew it, my stop arrived and we were at my street corner by my apartment. Enjoying talking with him, I suggested getting dinner since I wanted to prolong our time before the planned sex date. He agreed that he too was hungry and wanted to talk more, too. I took him to his first Thai restaurant and we talked for over two hours occasionally looking up to catch the other smiling back to which we would immediately break the stare, looking away embarrassed like school girls with a crush. At the end of dinner, we agreed that we were having a really great time and also discussed the refreshing surprise of that discovery. After all, we were almost four hours into our supposed quick fuck and we'd barely touched. This was how he and I started off together. Both of us unsure if the other reciprocated the same feelings. Over the next few weeks, we spent as much time together as his busy study schedule and overbearing professor would allow. I savored all of our time together as he'd cook for me and excitedly play his favorite Bjork songs on YouTube for me.
We both knew that eventually his time in the states would come to an end but we were bound to enjoy the time that we had together. All I knew was that with him in my arms, I was finally home. Our last night together, we just lay in bed, his head on my chest and my arm wrapped tight around his shoulder, our fingers interlaced, legs intertwined. When the time came, we took the long train ride hand in hand and walked to the front door of his building that he would walk through with his suitcase the next day bound for home an ocean away. Swallowing back what felt like giant lumps of coal in my throat as I fought the tears welling up in my swollen lids, we embraced one final time before I watched him cross the threshold up the stairs to his apartment.
Over the next year, we kept a weekly video chat date and talked about the possibility of his living and studying for his PhD in the states. Those Fridays couldn't come soon enough every week so we could sit and talk face to face for hours. Our skype dates proved to be the brightest point in my otherwise dreary life at the time. However, after almost a year of this, our schedules changed and we drifted. Our hope had always been that we would see each other two years after he left. By that time he would return like some lost messiah to reclaim me for eternity.
Three weeks ago marked his long awaited return. But time changes the plans we make in life. No more was he here for long term studies. He was on a brief trip to Philadelphia and made an even more brief trip to NYC for a day that we could spend together. I was excited to see him though still unsure how it would affect me since he would be leaving again. I figured that as long as I wasn't dating anyone else, it was OK for us to pretend that time stood still and we were still together for that day. That scenario wasn't to be realized, for just days before he was to arrive, he told me the news that he'd been avoiding telling me: that he's had a serious boyfriend for quite some time now. That he will always love me and didn't want to hurt me by telling me that he could no longer bear our distance.
It's not that I'd been holding out for him all this time or that I expected him to pine away for me all alone either. As a matter of fact, I am really happy for him. Part of me was frustrated though. Here was a closeted, career-focused workaholic in homophobic Italy who found a boyfriend and I'm living in the gay mecca of the free world and alas, no luck. In one of the most ironic slaps in the face I've ever experienced, he echoed this same sentiment to me later by saying that if he can find someone, so can I. Wanting to thank him for pouring salt in the wound, I thought better of it as I'd have to explain to him what that expression meant.
We agreed to meet when he was in NYC and he would stay at my apartment before his train back to Philly the next morning. After so much time apart, I felt like there was little besides each other that we held in common. So in this spirit, I thought meeting him would reinforce that feeling. The moment I saw him in Penn station the afternoon he arrived, it all came rushing back to me. I was immediately back in front of the Natural History Museum smiling at this nervous and worried boy before me. I'd spent so much time convincing myself that he wasn't right. That we weren't a good match. We are too different. All of the lies I told myself to make every day without him a little easier came crashing down before me like a crystal chandelier. So there I stood with shattered prisms at my feet as I again caught his eye from across the station. In this moment, I realized that this was going to be one of the hardest days of my life. This was my day to say goodbye. We had a wonderful day. It was an uneventful but bursting with meaning. While we lay on a rock in Central Park, he stood to take a phone call. Pacing back and forth on the sidewalk excitedly chattering in Italian with a big grin, I realized two things. One, it was his boyfriend on the other end and two....He was in love. I think that's the one thing that turned out making this easier for me. I know that it's done. Enough. It's time to say goodbye. I had someone that I got to feel love with. I had someone to experience all encompassing love with. We never fought. We never floundered. I never wanted anyone else when I had him. Our love never died. Reality is what got us in the end. Hope can only get you so far before you have to accept the inevitable. So as I found a place across the station to watch him board his train after we hugged goodbye, I let go. After all, we found love in a hopeless place.
the end, by sean
We Found Love by Rihanna
