I should have been celebrating after that. I did try. I went to the movies to see Isle of Dogs. And then to karaoke. The movie was good but made me think of that girl the whole time. Karaoke was not very good.
See, on that Monday, that girl had messaged me to let me know that my incessant letters were making her roommate assume that we were dating. This had implications of dishonesty on her part. So I was to stop writing letters. I had put one more in the mail that day, but told her that I would stop. And from that point, I became somewhat convinced that she no longer liked me. That evening, the thoughts of her did not interrupt my studying every few minutes. I accomplished more a lot faster. But then I had to correct my mind that night with no more daydreaming about her. For a night, it was okay.
The following night, the loneliness was crippling. I tried to just go to sleep, to just do what I have done for the bulk of my life, but her absence from my mind was so acutely disconcerting that I cried. I never cry, privately or publicly, with a few very specific exceptions related to academics. That night, however, my pillow was lightly dampened.
So the next night, I finished my tasks early enough to drink. I messaged her that night, checking to make sure that I was still okay to visit the following weekend, but she said that it would be too painful. I told her that I have put aside enough of my feelings to be a friend for her, and she too is depressed enough that she appreciates it. Though I remain convinced that she no longer wishes to like me in a romantic fashion.
My mind is in turmoil all week as a result of these assumptions. I do not allow myself to think of her romantically, to daydream of her, and it takes its toll. I always dream about a better day to come. I cannot help but to drink every night.
Fast forward back to Saturday. I work out, which I had negated for much of the week, and then I try to make myself go to a different karaoke. I think to myself that I need to get out, to live a little bit. But I walk in and wander for five minutes and simply cannot make myself stay. I felt wrong. So I left, but rather than drive straight back to my apartment, I pulled over into a parking lot in front of a park and began to talk to God.
Normally, in instances of frustration such as these, I make myself yell at God. I rarely see a reason to raise one's voice when trying to communicate, but for God, I think it important to churn up whatever I am trying to keep from Him. But I am so exhausted from the thought of not being with her, of the simultaneous reopening of that void of loneliness, that I merely speak. I had really tried to obey Him in this. A vision lent its support and that friend remains convinced of its validity. The missionary gave a cautionary answer that was "not a no". Logic said to give this up. I had moved away and it did not make sense. But neither does me becoming a doctor. So I cautiously told God that I would switch my thinking from the loneliness back to thinking that she and I were meant to be together, that if He wanted that to change, then He should absolutely intervene and correct us. And also importantly, I told Him that I would try to give up to Him my constant resigned suspicion that she would find someone else. If I trusted Him with the relationship, then I would also trust Him to keep her heart from other men.
That night, we FaceTimed. She had read my letters. The last one had included a list of qualities that were objectively admirable. It was only a page long, but she had mentioned that she did not see what she brought to the table, and that boggled my mind, so I figured that this may help. She told me that she was afraid that she would break my heart. I let her know that that was not her responsibility, that emotions are emotions, but I did not think that she actually could, given the nature of her character.
That conversation, which is the type of communication that I always long to receive from her, felt like a confirmation of the conversation I had had with God just hours before. We played truth or dare, and during that game, I dared her to visit me and write me a letter, both of which she agreed to do (though the visit was apparently still in the works from when she had previously told me that she would).
She said that I am not allowed to write her a letter until I receive one from her. I write poetry for/to her frequently, but simply have it saved in my phone, hoping for a chance to send it to her to capture her heart just a little bit more even though I remain 221 miles away.
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