So I'm sitting outside in jeans and a sweatshirt with a scarf wrapped around my face, my hands shoved deep in my pockets, and I'm freezing, when yesterday I was in shorts and a tank-top. I'm thinking typical troll weather, but then I realize that it's not typical, not really, because "typical" should refer to what I've gotten used to, what I've lived with all my life. Except now I'm not where I've lived all my life. It's not far away, so I guess this weather is still typical to the general area, but I still had a tiny pang of loneliness when I realized I'm a fish out of water.
So I decide, hey, it's fall, this is my favorite season, I'm going to make the most of it. There's a Starbuck's down the street, and it's Pumpkin Spice Latte season, so I decide to take a walk. On my way I keep passing people who are in flimsy t-shirts and all I'm thinking is how are they not freezing, but then my self-consciousness kicks in and I know they're all judging me because I'm the abnormality here; I'm the only one who's cold. I pull off my hood and lower my scarf so it's not covering my face anymore, and keep walking.
At the crosswalk, there's a huge crowd of people waiting to walk, so when the light changes, I'm struggling through a crowd of people as I make my way to the revolving doors into the supermarket that shares space with Starbuck's. I get there just behind someone else, so I have to wait a second for the second compartment to come around, but a woman rounds the corner and slips into the open compartment just as it comes around, so I have to wait for her, too. She's immediately in front of me as I walk in. She's walking really slowly, but the checkout lines are crowded and blocking my way on my left, and she's pressed far enough to the shelves on the right that I can't get by that way, either. Finally I squeeze through, only to be thwarted once more by a pair of older men coming out of the aisle just ahead of me. Once again, I'm behind slow-movers and trapped on either side. They turn off down another aisle and I'm free. The line to Starbuck's is right in front of me, but a woman meandering across my path halts me once more, and while she's passing, a pair of gabbing girls get to the line before me.
So the line's already like ten people long and I'm frustrated by the slowness of the rest of the world, but I made it, and I'm super excited for this Pumpkin Spice Latte to clear away my homesick blues. So I'm standing there, waiting, thinking about what it's going to be like to drink this delicious thing, and I start to notice something funny. I feel a little jittery, and I've got kind of a headache. I start thinking maybe I don't really want this latte anymore, but I'm already in line, so I have to. I'll just get a small. Even as this thought crosses my mind, though, I know I just can't take the caffeine. So I give up. I turn around and head out, getting out of the supermarket and across the street with no mishaps.
I'm walking back to my dorm, thinking about what just happened, and why the prospect of something so delicious was so off-putting to me. Then it hits me: It's my boyfriend.
We weren't a perfect match at first. In fact, I called it off with him twice because I didn't think we meshed well. But even then, when we were awkwardly dating and only seeing each other at lunch on Tuesdays and Thursdays because he had his college classes and I had play rehearsals on the weekends, I was happy. I was happy because it was fall, and I was happy because I was in the throes of "new love". Even if you're not happily in love, you can be happy in love. Apparently.
But that was almost a year ago now. Since then we've gotten to know each other better, and now I'm very happily in love, at least as much as I can be at my tender young age. But I'm not happy in love. Like I said before, I'm not at home right now. But he is, still. He's about five hours away from me, and even though it's not far, it's a hassle—not to mention expensive—to get back home to see him, so I have to suffer with it for now.
So I'm walking through the Quad, wondering why the hell I'm so cold, and why the hell I didn't want that latte, and why the hell I thought I could deal with being away from everyone I love for so long.
You know how sometimes you hear a song that you listened to a whole lot during a certain period of your life, but you haven't heard it at all since then? And you get this feeling, whether it be sadness, happiness, loneliness, or what-have-you. You feel nostalgic.
My boyfriend wasn't allowed to come see me on school grounds during lunch because he wasn't a student at my high school, so we had to meet at the coffee shop across the street. I never sit in any food-service place without purchasing something from them, even if I'm bringing in my own food, too. Especially if I'm bringing in my own food, too. So every Tuesday and Thursday last fall I would get out of class and walk across the street to see this boy I hardly knew but was always excited to see because of that new love feeling. I would set my backpack down at whatever table he was already at, kiss him on the cheek, say "be right back", then go up to the counter and buy...what?
A Pumpkin Spice Latte.
It was almost a relief to realize what was happening. It was set up so perfectly. The season is right. The homesickness is making me lonely. All it took was the idea of a Pumpkin Spice Latte, and my body reacted. The problem was not that I'm not in the mood for coffee. The problem was that I miss my boyfriend. I miss him enough that re-creating the environment I found myself in during those few fleeting weeks of exciting new love sent a shock through my system that rendered me completely helpless.
I've heard people say that being in love can be scary. Now I get it. No one ever seems to want to talk about this, so it might be kind of controversial, but I'm going to try to explain it anyway. The love itself isn't controversial. The scary part comes from being without.
Now here's the thing: when a guy tells a girl he needs her, he can't live without her, he wants her to promise to never leave him, there's something funny going on there. Warning bells go off. The same thing happens when a girl says these things to a guy, though society views her a little differently than they would view him. The point, though, is the same. To a lot of people, phrases like this count this as a symptom of an abusive relationship.
What people don't always realize is that it's only a symptom. Feeling tired is a symptom of the flu, but isn't it also a symptom of, I don't know, being tired? Human beings have feelings. I'm not saying it's okay to feel completely worthless when you're not with the person you love, but it is okay to miss them when you're alone.
Remember that part of the second Twilight book when Edward leaves and there are four pages in a row of just the names of the months passing by, because Bella couldn't do anything without Edward? That's wrong. But that's obviously not what's going on with me right now, because I didn't go catatonic the moment I got on the train to come back to school after visiting my boyfriend this weekend.
I guess all I'm trying to say, in this post that ended up way longer than I had originally intended, is that I think maybe I'm growing up. I'm in a long distance relationship with someone, and I miss him dearly, but I'm still alive, aren't I? I'm strong enough to take a little bit of heartache and make it part of my daily life. So I won't be drinking Pumpkin Spice Lattes any time soon. I'll move past this, because I know, somehow, that I can't be the only one who feels like this.
I don't think my boyfriend's too keen on the drink right now, either.
No comments:
Post a Comment