My Eyes Adored You

When I expressed fear over what is wrong with me my dad responded with, "you always zig when everyone else is zagging," to explain that my blood test results will be normal. Things just take a little longer for me. Is that it? Is it that simple? Can I start to zag now? I don't zig on purpose. Everything in my life has been a big hurdle, a huge ordeal. Nothing has ever come easy. I have learned that when I stop and focus, I can do anything. Like the bar exam. I stopped, planned and focused and I nailed it. But everyday life, no way. I've never been able to stop the rush of contradictory thoughts racing through my mind as I feel like life is too short for me to ever do everything I want to do as I quit one job, break up with Brooklyn because I start to feel held back buoyed into place and I need to swim, move, transfer colleges three times. If I let myself settle comfortably into any of those places, would I not be where I am today? Would I be somewhere better? Whenever I get comfortable I feel uncomfortable. I feel stagnant.

I was always half in love with him. I say half because it was never fully realized. It never got a chance. Maybe if it had it would go away for good. Maybe it would be so good that it would never go away. Now he seems like a metaphor for my life. I just thought it would work itself out at some point. I knew it was there. So close, always around, will know him forever; he'll come around, it'll work out. But we're old now and what if he marries someone else? Then he's gone for good. And I never did enough about it. Just let him slip through my fingers. Just like I did with all of my other dreams.

I was 10, he was 9. I was 11, he was 10. I was 12, he was 11. He was my first crush. He was the younger brother of my best friend. He often tried to hang out with us. She made sure he was excluded. He and I were the same size back then. She was taller than both of us and had the power to make him go away. I didn't know I had a crush on him. I had never had one before and didn't know what it felt like. I only knew that I wanted him around and liked sleeping over at their house because there was more opportunity for contact.

We got older. My feelings evolved. Curiousity mixed with fear mixed with lust mixed with the comfort that you only get when you grow up with someone who's mother has yelled at you like you're her kid too. The nights you've slept in the same bed with his sister always talking about boys but never talking about him, never confessing. What if you had? Or what if he didn't have an older sister. Or what if you and she weren't so close, then would things have been different between you two?

I got hit by the Brooklyn thunderbolt when I was 13. But the summer that I was 16 I finally found myself with him. Brooklyn and I weren't exclusive, weren't even officially dating then and despite our feelings for each other, we were young and let our instincts rule. Our instincts told us to act our age. I don't remember the first kiss. I only know it was incredible and felt like a dream coming true. Brooklyn didn't like it. Neither did his sister. But I did. Unfortunately being 16, I never pursued him, despite how much I liked it. Peer pressure's a bitch. Also, he wasn't exactly making it easy for me. He did not pursue me either.

But he always showed up for me. He still does. I can count on him for that. To always be there when I need him the most, unasked; he just knows. He makes me feel safe in a way that only my father does. Brooklyn was enraged when I let him drive my parents car because I wouldn't let anyone else. He warned me the summer people were talking about me, I had slept with Brooklyn the night before at a party and Brooklyn had a very angry girlfriend as a result. He was concerned with my honor and told me that Brooklyn was the one spreading this rumor. I was touched. But again, I didn't do anything. This was also in the height of my feminine powers. When I think about the opportunities I had that summer I am still shocked. I get why I wouldn't want to be with the one guy who seemed to have my interests in mind. The others were actively vying for my my affections. All he did was be my friend in his subtle, understated, sincere way.

He visited me in the hospital and handed over his fleece pants when I said I was cold. When I spoke at my grandmother's funeral it was his face I was looking at. He came to her shiva. He came to my grandfather's shiva. He always shows up for me. When he wanted to be hooked up with A, I set it up. There is nothing I wouldn't do for him. And miraculously the two years they dated were two years that my feelings were completely on hold. Then there was the night a couple of memorial days ago when we ended up having sex. It was our first time. None of our other dalliances had ever yeilded actual sex. We always came dangerously close but were interrupted in some way and neither of us wanted to stand up for what we were doing enough to actually complete it. We were very drunk and he fell asleep in my bed and I didn't sleep at all. I was downstairs eating breakfast with my mom when he slunk downstairs and out of the house. I wonder what was going through his head that morning.

After Illinois and I broke up he is the one that gave me exactly what I needed and didn't know I needed. Refuge. Shelter from the storm. He picked me up and made decisions for me and took me to my sister and listened to me ramble and cry and try to figure it all out. Then he disappeared. I couldn't deny my feelings for him anymore. I realized then what I had been suppressing for so many years. He always shows up for me. I never have to ask. He knows. He sees me naked and still likes me and continues to be there. He just knows. He gets me. So I took the plunge. He came home for Christmas. I had designs on a New Year's kiss. But he left on New Year's Eve. I texted, "I wanted to kiss you on New Year's Eve." He responded, "If I was there, you would've been kissed," and I was touched and thrilled and excited and shocked. The next day he called me and confessed that he's been in love with me since he was 10 and I confessed the same thing. We figured we'd figure it out when he was back here for good. I waited. He came back. He stayed with us. That first night he slept on the couch I left my door open and kept hallucinating myself walking over to the couch into his arms. I never did it. And he never did either.

And here we remain. Only now I can't look forward to ending up with him, unless it is a second marriage or something. We are older now and he has a girlfriend and I don't even know what my story is. This story is symbolic of my whole life. Checking to make sure it's still there and then not doing anything about it. Assuming that it will always be there and available to me. Why have I been so blind? Why have I been so scared to go after what I want? Why have I been afraid to accept that I have needs? Whenever I think I am running after what I want I have these paralyzing moments where I realize how much I have already lost, how many opportunities I have already missed. And some of them were priceless. Some of them would have given me the solace and the answers that I am scared I will never find again. If only I could zig.