The Middle

Have you ever done something that completely changed your life? Devised this big, elaborate plan of modifying your time on this earth and then actually followed through with it?
No, like, I’m serious. Have you?
I guess that’s what led me here. Lying in bed, wide awake, pondering every single memory I ever had with the best thing that’s ever happened to me. The thing I left behind for ‘the best thing that could ever happen to me.’
But, like, how was I even supposed to know I would miss him this much? I’ve dreamed of being here my whole life! I’ve worked up to this very moment, the one I’m in, right now, since before I could talk! So what if I moved out of my crappy, miniscule town to pursue my dream? I mean, isn’t that what I was supposed to do?!
“Anything is possible with a little hard work and determination, Sabrina!” I could just hear my high school English teacher chime in my ear once more as he did when I called and told him I’d landed this gig.
Editor and chief for the Chicago Sun Times, by the way.
Yeah. I know. I’m still beaming.
Just then, I hear my phone buzz. My heart stops.
Uck. It’s Cindy, the intern at work. She wants to “like go get some coffee tomorrow for lunch!” She never leaves me alone. Who texts someone at midnight asking them for coffee the next day?
I roll my eyes and turn my phone over next to me. Who cares? Did I actually think it would be him? I don’t even care.
Ugh.
The faucet in the bathroom of my new apartment is dripping and this, of course, takes my mind back to Austin (as everything has since I left) and the time he tried to fix the leaky sink in our then, new apartment. New to us, anyway.
“Well, this is impossible,” he’d yelled from the kitchen. I’d turned away from the box I’d been unpacking and met him in the war zone. I sighed and turned on the sink, not putting much thought into the fact that maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Just as I did, I felt a rush of water start to spray feet, legs, and finally, up to my face. Austin quickly unburied himself from under the sink, trying to stop the runaway hose. He was successful only after fighting with it for a couple seconds and drenching himself as well.
He shut off the water and glared at me.
“Oops?” I offered. By then he was already laughing and wrapping his arms around my waist. Together, we started slow dancing, right there in our dripping clothes and puddle of a kitchen. I knew then that I’d never love anything as much as long as I lived.
Ha! That should’ve been a sign, I guess.
Ugh. He was just so frustrating. It shouldn’t have to be like this now. I wanted him to come with me but nooooo. He just ‘couldn’t leave the memories or family.’ What about me?! Three years together, wasn’t I family?!
I’d reassured him of the powers of Skype, phone calls, texting, but nooooo.
“You just can’t ever meet me in the middle, can you?!” I’d screamed. It was one of the last things I said to him. But, shit, this was my dream!
Ya know?!
And I don’t feel like I’m making the wrong choice, just in case you’re wondering.
I don’t.
Not at all.
Seriously, stop looking at me like that.
I sit in silence for what seems like forever before my phone buzzes and stops my heart again.
Cindy.
DAMN IT, CINDY, SCREW YOU AND YOUR COFFEE.
She’s asking why I’m not answering.
MAYBE BECAUSE IT’S MIDNIGHT AND I’M ASLEEP, CINDY. OBVIOUSLY.
Now she’s calling me.
Deep breaths. Ignore it.
Drip.
Drip.
DRIP.
UGH. YA KNOW WHAT.
And then, it happens. I get up. Throw on some clean clothes. Pack a bag. Two bags. Three.
What am I doing here?! Is this really my dream?
Yes.
No.
Stop.
Go!
Drip.
The truth is, my dream changed three years ago when I met the best thing that ever happened to me; the best thing that would ever happen to me. Suddenly, I realize that no life I could ever have would feel like a life worth living without him. My dreams came true a long time ago. I haven’t been chasing them; I’ve been running away from them.
So what if he couldn’t meet me in the middle? Love is about sacrifice. All I care about is him. We could live on the moon, for all I care, as long as we’re together.
Finally, the car is packed. I drive for four solid hours before stopping at a dinner, just off the interstate. It’s 5am.
“What can I get for ya, miss?” says my old woman waitress after I sit down.
A cigarette, I think. I’m really not even hungry. Just needed a break. I’ve reached the halfway mark. Four more hours to go.
“Just a coffee, please.”
“You got it,” she says and rushes off.
I take a deep breath and place my head in my hands.
You’re crazy. But I’m happy. So happy. For the first time in months it feels as though the hole in my heart is filling up again.
Another deep breath the slight smile on my lips. Soon, I’ll be back with him. Where I should be. Where I should’ve never left.
“Tennessee, huh? Where ya goin’?” I hear a waitress say from across the little dinner.
“Chicago.”
Huh. Go figure.
“What’s in Chicago?” she asks.
“My life. The one I’ve been too scared to go and live,” says a raspy, tired voice. Familiar, almost.
“The love of my life is there,” it says.
My heart stops.
“I’m on my way to surprise her.” I can hear a smile in his voice.
“Well, isn’t that romantic!” coos the waitress as I uncover my eyes.
And there he is, as if I’m dreaming. He’s sipping a coffee and smiling politely at the waitress, blushing almost before I stand up and his eyes meet mine. They turn into saucers for a second as we start to make our way to each other. Slow, at first, then practically a sprint.
And I start to cry. Because there we are. Meeting in the middle. Like, the literal middle.
How cheesy.
How perfect.