I didn’t want to commit to buying her a boyfriend-level gift for Valentine’s Day, and then her birthday was two weeks after. I had to take the exit. But how?The night went so well. However, I felt it necessary to drop in that I was moving to Los Angeles after graduation to pursue writing and stand-up comedy.Weeks later, we worked side by side in his bed. I glanced over at some lyrics on his open laptop. A line read, “That Christmas, Chad drove me to his family’s home in Delaware.
Chad called. A management team was auditioning on campus for a new band based out of Nashville. I stood frozen near Wilshire Boulevard.“You’re going to get it,” I said encouragingly, feeling a shift in my body as my future self put a consoling hand on my shoulder.“I don’t want you to think I’m any less dedicated to us,” Chad said, before I even asked.
For years, we did our best. Our days swayed to a rhythm of good morning texts and evening FaceTimes. Video calls couldn’t scratch the itch, but we kept dialing. Every time I flew in to visit him, band members, management and everyone on the street asked, “When are you moving to Nashville?” On Christmas Day around 2 p.m., Chad remarked that normally by afternoon, it barely felt like Christmas anymore — with gifts unwrapped and the excitement over. He then looked at me and said, “It still feels like Christmas.”I needed us to make a firmer plan, but all Chad could offer was “one day.” At four months of dating, “one day” felt magical. At four years, it felt like our relationship was no longer holding hands in the front seat. It was twiddling its thumbs in the back.
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