I Miss You Ornela

I look at your number displayed on my phone screen as my thumb hovers over the call button. I want to call you tonight, not for any reason in particular, but just to see how you are doing. I want to hear about how your thesis is coming along, if your mother's health has improved at all...I know her condition weighs on you so very much, and if you ever removed that scary mask that hangs on the wall opposite your bed. I want to talk to you about everything and nothing in particular. More than anything, I just want to hear your voice.

"Who are you about to call?" my dad says as he passes by me on his way to the kitchen.

"No one," I reply, and flip my phone closed.

He rummages through the refrigerator and finds some cold cuts and cheese to make himself a sandwich. He offers me some but I refuse.

"You sure you don't want anything?" he asks, his brow furrowed slightly to betray his concern. "Your face is looking a little more gaunt than the last time you visited home. You're eating enough aren't you?"

"I'm fine dad," I say and sit down at the kitchen table to stare out the window into the back yard. The leaves on most of the trees are already a vibrant array of reds, oranges, and yellows. Winter will be here soon.

My dad takes a seat next to me and offers me half of his sandwich, which I again refuse. "Bobby, you have not been yourself lately. What is the matter?"

"I told you dad, I'm fine. I just wanted to get out of Atlanta for a little while and come home."

"That's understandable," he says. "The city can be a bit crowded sometimes. Didn't you leave Atlanta for a few days earlier this month too? Your mother tells me that you went camping with some friends."

"Camping? Oh, yeah...it was nice."

"I noticed that you didn't take your sleeping bag or any tents though since they are all still here at the house," my dad says, never taking his eyes off of me as I look away.

I say nothing.

"Bobby, your mother is worried about you because you just left for several days and never called. Who are these friends that you went camping with?"

I close my eyes and rub them with both hands, partially to relieve the mounting stress but mostly to conceal the tears that are just beginning to well up.

"I didn't go camping dad. That's just what I told mom so she would not worry about my absence for a few days. I went to Boston."

"Boston?" he surprisingly asks. "What for?"

"I just had some things that I needed to see about."

"Hmm," my dad replies, mumbling something to himself. "Didn't you used to date a girl who lives in Boston?"

"Yes, a long time ago."

"What was her name again?"

"Ornela."

"Oh yes, that's right...the very pretty girl. She was the only one you ever brought down to the lake house."

"The only one."

"What ever happened to her?" my dad asks.

Without replying I stand up to leave and begin walking away when my dad reaches for my arm.

"Bobby, I figured that you never went camping earlier this month, and though I did not want to pry into your personal life I knew something was not right. Judging by your discouraged demeanor, I figured it had something to do with a woman. Women can make men do crazy things, and lord knows that there are things I did for women when I was your age that your mother will never find out about. But if you care enough about this woman to travel all the way across the country just to see her, you must have very strong feelings for her."

"I love her."

"Does she know that? Did you tell her?"

I chuckle at his question as thoughts of all of the letters, conversations and intimate moments you and I have shared together suddenly appear before my mind's eye. "She knows dad...she knows."

"Then what are you doing here in Dothan with your mother and me? Why aren't you up in Boston with her right now?"

For the first time since I last saw you in Boston I smile. "Because I am waiting for Ornela to ask me to see her when she is ready, and when that day comes I will be there to hold her in my arms and never let go."

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In the three weeks that have passed since we last saw each other, I have wanted to talk to you every day. However, you asked me not to contact you, and though refraining from doing so has been a daily struggle, I have kept my word to you. I have left you alone to sort out your feelings for me and decide what you truly want. Still, I wonder. I wonder if you ever think about me. I wonder if you miss me, if you wish I was laying next to you in bed at night as we fall asleep in each other's arms. I wonder if our last kiss touched your heart, just as it did mine. More than anything else, I wonder if you will ever tell me that you love me again. I simply do not know...

I could ask you to call me just as I have done so many times before, but I know that it would make no difference. You will choose to reach out to me when you are ready, which may be a week, a month, or a year from now...or maybe never. Again, I simply do not know.

There is so much I do not know, so many questions I have that remain unanswered. But for all of my uncertainty, the one thing I am sure of is that I am in love with you...and I still believe that you love me too. It is this love that we have for one another that I believe will eventually bring us back together. Call it a fool's hope. Call it willful ignorance. I call it faith. I have faith in you Ornela, and in our love too.

I miss you so much Ornela. I wish you would ask me to see you tonight. I wish we could spend all night talking and holding each other close...I just wish that we were together right now.