The Moment of Letting Go

He makes it up to me later.

If the thought of having to leave Hawaii was unbearable before, now, after all of our intimate moments together, how he cherishes me in every single way, the thought utterly rips me apart. Every kiss, every touch, every whisper, every time he looks at me with those magical, endearing eyes of his, I lose myself a little bit more: to Luke, to the possibilities of change; I lose myself in ways I never imagined, or would have welcomed before I met him.

After the hike, and a thousand photographs later, we spend the rest of the afternoon near a beach, lying out on a blanket on the grass, looking up at the blue sky. Our shoes kicked off, my camera sitting next to my purse. A couple of sub sandwiches half eaten beside us as we watch some local surfers ride the waves.

“Luke,” I say, my voice filling the small space between us as we lie tangled on the blanket, “I’ve been thinking a lot about Monday.”

His long fingers comb through my hair as he gazes into my eyes thoughtfully.

“I think about it every day,” he says. “I wish you didn’t have to go back.”

“Me too.” It’s all I can say; it kills me to think about it, much less talk about it, but I know we have to.

“I know you have to get back to your job and all that, but I’d like to come visit you. My parents live in Sacramento. I can stay with them and visit you. And I know my way a little around San Diego already.”

“I have my own apartment in Ocean View Villas,” I say, thinking it might ring a bell. “It’s in downtown San Diego. When you visit, you can stay with me.” I love the thought of that, but I still can’t keep the sadness from my voice. I want to tell him that the thought of a long-distance relationship is depressing, but what can I say? I want to be with him. I want to try to make this work, whatever this is growing so fast between us, even if it means living six hours apart, separated by an ocean.

There’s something else, though, something darker looming in my heart. It bothers me worse than the distance that will separate us and I don’t want to think about it: him BASE jumping, and killing himself doing it.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his face just inches from mine.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed,” I say, and instantly the smile drops from his lips. I try to bring it back quickly. “I just mean everything that’s happened between us. I wasn’t exactly prepared for that when I boarded the plane for my job. But I’m overwhelmed in a good way.” And that’s mostly true. Never in a thousand years did I ever think I’d meet someone like Luke and be lying here right now with him underneath a Hawaiian sky, talking about a possible future together. Things this magical only happen by accident. Sometimes only once. Sometimes never.

“Are you sure?” The backs of his fingers brush the edge of my cheek.

I nod, smiling, and lean in and kiss his lips. He kisses my nose and then my forehead and pulls me closer, tucking my head beneath his chin.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says. “Who knows? You might realize you don’t like me as much as you thought you did.”

I scoff quietly, because that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.

“That won’t happen,” I say and lace my fingers through his on top of his chest.

“Yeah? How do you know for sure?”

Because I think I’m falling for you, and it’s breaking my heart to know that in a couple days there will be an ocean between us … And because …

“I just know,” I say out loud and choke down the pain of my inner thoughts.

“You were right,” I speak up after a long time.

“About what?”

“About at least two of the three things you said would happen before I went home.”

“Oh yeah?” There’s a huge smile in his voice. “Which one was I wrong about?”

J. A. Redmerski's books