Charlotte: The Departure

On paper - this should've been perfect. In the 5 years that we maintained this very close digital relationship of telling each other everything and crossing all boundaries between confidante, best friends, mentor/mentees and flirtatious lovers. We never really had conflict - but the reality was very different. And translating from a fully digital relationship to a 24/7 physical one, with so many issues from language, dependency, values, isolation and  communication styles took a heavy toll

He lived on structure and motion: up at 6:30, long showers, workouts, errands, constant doing.
I live in quiet. I start late, read a lot, think too much, talk very little. 

He missed cities. I liked stillness.
He wanted to see Miami or Chicago. I wanted to sit in the backyard and read.
Neither of us was wrong. But together, we were not what the other wanted and we had no other options.

At first, I loved hearing him stir next to me, and quietly rise and go to his bathroom and start getting ready. He had one song he’d play every morning while showering and preparing himself for the day. Sometimes I’d sneak up and sing along just to make him laugh. But after weeks of it, I started to hate the song - occasionally even commenting that isn't there another sing he could put on? 

In those months together, we only argued once. He’d gotten bad news from home and snapped at me; I snapped back. We barely spoke the rest of that night, I sat in the backyard, staring at the house we’d made this quiet, beautiful space and the promise of potential as we explored it together. I found myself reflecting at how 10 minutes after moving in we were exploring the backyard together and we’d met our neighbors. It was very obvious the 30s something couple was curious and one of them even asked "oh are you guys...roommates?" and  Enrique smiled and said in his atrociously adorable English:  “Roommates?? NO NO NO BEDmates! HAHA This is my boyfriend - novio- and I am his! In Spanish NOVIOS- no husband, well no yet!" And we all laughed

'It already felt like a lifetime ago.

I don’t remember what the final straw even was.

Since that one night of snapping he had slept by himself in the living room and I said nothing. We avoided each other except polite greetings - I kept myself locked in my office while he ensured he was at the gym, exploring, meeting his appointments or doing design and architecture work on his computer. 

He knocked on my door while I was working and I remember thinking "god - finally, we are we at least going to talk?" but after politely apologizing for the intrusion, he announced he would be leaving. Caught off guard I asked for clarification: 

“Are you going to a hotel?” I asked. “Or an Airbnb?”
He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

I knew he was lying - he had 4 bags packed discreetly hidden to the side of the door. When he noticed I saw them, he stepped outside quickly. 

When the Uber pulled up, I followed him. Asking rapidly what was happening - that it was just a disagreement, he didn't have to leave, was he okay? Where was he going to go?

 He smiled at my intensity and hugged my weakly and told me "tranqqqqquillooo! I’m just being dramatic. I’ll be back in a few days. I just need to be alone, I need time to think and I dont want to be a bitch here when you are so good to me" 

He refused to make eye contact as he put his bags in the trunk  - and seconds later he gave a brief wave as his Uber pulled out onto the road - and I remember thinking: "He is leaving, isn't he?" 

The next morning, the house was still. His coffee mug was half full. His room smelled faintly of cologne and his hair product. He hadn't accumulated much stuff yet - but most of it was gone. There was a hamper of some of his underwear and socks. An old jacket folded up under a desk, a notebook next to his bed with an ashtray. 

For the first time in months, I could hear my own thoughts.

Relief came first. Then guilt for feeling it. I both missed and cherished the absence of that stupid song - I went to his bathroom and it was so surreal. Surely he was coming back - but why did it not feel that way?

He had texted me at almost 3am to tell me he had found a place and was fine - but to give him a few days as we had spent nearly 3 months together in constant company. I agreed and told him we'd talk soon. 

I had the worst feeling that night - like he was about to make a huge mistake, yet I could do nothing to stop it. All I knew was that our fates were somehow sealed, and one chapter had now been closed.