Hope

Beautiful. In an instant all of my fear and trepidation disappears as I see you enter the lobby and glance towards me. Three years have dulled my memory, but not your beauty as you walk closer and look at the rain soaked man before you.


"Can I have a hug?" I ask.


"Ok," you gingerly concede. And so begins our first night together, putting an end to so many lonely evenings apart.


We sit down to talk and the incredulous look on your face betrays your disbelief. You cannot believe I am here. You cannot believe that I have travelled 1,300 miles to see you, in the rain, and without even a change of clothes apart from the shirt that fits snugly over my shoulders. I tell you why I have come to see you. I talk, you listen. The look on your face changes from disbelief to distress, and then to pity. You are about to break my heart...and you know it. You talk and I listen. My head drops at your words, reality becomes apparent, and I prepare myself to return to Logan International Airport for the long flight home.


But I don't leave Boston that night. Instead you invite me into your home, a courtesy I was not expecting, though one that set the stage for the next four days of heartfelt discussions between you and I that brought us closer together than we have been in years, yet also threatened to tear us apart.


The first night we lay together in bed was simultaneously exhilarating and frightening for me. For the first time in my life I lay in bed beside a woman I am truly and completely in love with. That feeling is unrivaled by any I have thus far experienced in my life and seemed inferior only to the next intimate moments we were surely about to share together. As you lay beside me beneath the blankets, I reached out to touch your arm, but rather than inviting me closer you unexpectantly pull away. Undeterred, I hold your hand, squeeze it tightly and wait for you to do the same, but your grip remains flaccid, unmoving and cold. I stroke your hair, transfixed by your beauty and powerless to restrain myself as I lean in to kiss your cheek, a brief prelude before our lips touch. But it is not to be. You pull away quickly, turning your back to me and crossing your arms to guard yourself from my touch. My head collapses in agony. A tear that you do not see runs down my cheek before it falls and disappears into the surrounding darkness that has claimed both my dying hope and our love.


Our talks over the next few days are difficult ones for both of us. I came here hoping to reconcile and begin our relationship anew, but when you reject my advances I instead simply want an explanation. You provide one. I don't understand. And round and round we go until we are both exhausted and frustrated.


"It would have been better if you never came to see me in Boston Bobby," you say, and my head hangs in despair.


Every time I try to draw closer you withdraw until finally I can take it no more. I collapse into tears, weeping uncontrollably in an unrestrained moment of emotional pain and despair. You have never seen me like this before, for until now I have kept my emotions under control, but the scene you witness has played itself out in private many times over the past few months...a million tears shed over your rejection of me.


And then something very strange happened. Until this moment, I had not recognized you. The walls that you have built around yourself have so insulated the girl I fell in love with that even after four days I had yet to see her. But as I lay in your bed, covering my face with hands that served only to muffle my cries, the good girl that I always knew was there finally arrived. You saw that I was in real trouble, real pain, and rather than choosing to protect yourself behind your walls you instead ran to me, draped your arms over my back and comforted me. You soothed my despair until at last all fear melted away within the warm embrace of your loving arms. I felt something from you that I had not sensed in our many days together: love. From that moment until the few hours later that I still remained with you, your demeanor towards me grew warmer.


Our ride to the airport felt different to me. It felt...wonderful. As we held hands, I felt that for the first time during my entire visit to Boston you actually enjoyed receiving my affection. You squeezed my hand the way you used to all those years ago and smiled when I stroked your arm. When we arrived at the airport I handed you my final letter and wondered at your reaction, when without hesitation you reached over my shoulders and gave me the most affectionate hug I can ever remember.


In our embrace I whisper into your ear, "Kiss me Ornela." A moment later, our lips lock. A moment after that, we became the two lovers we once were, holding each other close while all the world falls away.


I look into your eyes. You are smiling. I am smiling. The most unexpected of reunions has led to this briefest moment of happiness and I want only to stay in this car and hold you forever. Something has changed between our initial late night conversation at Harvard and now...our feelings for each other have returned.


Tonight, as I lay in my bed back home, I reflect on the previous days' events and the trials we had to endure to finally enjoy our first kiss in three years. I reach out my arm into the empty space beside me, almost expecting to feel you there, and I wonder if you wish I was lying next to you too.


We left each other today with a curious promise. You made me promise to try to find love in anyone but you, and I made you promise to find it only in us. It is a promise that only one of us can keep, but one that gives me hope for the future all the same.


I have hope for us Ornela. I have hope that you will ask to see me again. I have hope that the fates are already at work to bring us back together. It is hope that caused me to travel 1,300 miles just to see you. And it is hope for our future that finally brought us together as the lovers we once were in your car today. Hope is a wonderful thing, maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies.