NASH GRIER
I was so nervous. My hands were shaking, my breath was fast and my body had run cold; I was on the verge of a panic attack.
We had ended things last week, and it had been two weeks since I last saw you in person. It was obvious that you didn't care for me anymore, but that didn't matter. I missed you so fucking much. I was so desperate for you, for any way that I could still have you. I was driving to the one place I knew you'd be.
After I arrived, I sat in my truck, frozen, paralyzed with fear and not able to move. What was I doing? He doesn't want me here, so what am I doing? I don't know.
I still don't know why I was doing what I was doing. I just wanted to see you. I wanted to sit and have a nice conversation with you like the old days (which really weren't that old), or maybe get some closure. I wanted to be updated on your life. Going from talking everyday and knowing everything about someone, to no communication leaves a person wondering what happened. It leaves you wondering how they are. I wanted to know how you were doing, but fear of rejection kept me in my spot, frozen.
I had gone on a date the night before and it was a disaster. A boy invited me out to a dance and I went simply because I wanted to forget about you for the night. He ended up being an asshole and I only wanted you there more because you wouldn't have done what he did. You would've danced with me. You would've been the perfect gentleman, unlike him. That night only made me crave you more. I was dying without you. I still am.
Okay. I can do this.
I reached for my backpack of stuff that keeps me entertained and opened the door to my car. I stepped out and shivered as the cold air blew against my warm skin. This thin jacket was nowhere near warm enough for the middle of the winter.
Slowly, I walked towards the doors to the restaurant you work at. I was freaking out. My hands were shaking so bad. As I approached the door, I saw your face through the windows for the first time in weeks. My body wanted to stop in it's tracks but I couldn't because I didn't want to make a big scene. I was hoping I could walk in, without you noticing and you would come over to see what I wanted without saying anything. But things don't always go as you want them to.
I opened the first door to the restaurant and noticed that the second booth from the back of the restaurant—the one I always sat—at was filled. The one that the employees always sit at, the first from the back, wasn't. As I finally walked into the restaurant, one of the employees I had met recognized me and told me to sit in the first booth from the back of the restaurant. The closest one to you. I sat down on the side where my back was facing towards you and a waitress walked up to me, I ordered a drink even though I was too nervous to drink anything.
I opened up my bag and grabbed out my journal and colored pencils. I had been working on a drawing of a bird I loved, the Tree Swallow. It's beautiful blue and green shimmery feathers enticed me and I had added it to my bird journal.
I couldn't look back at the counter where you'd be.
I pressed my pencil gently to the page, I had to draw lightly and slowly seeing as my hands were shaking. But the pencil in one hand and eraser in the other was slightly steadying me.
My phone in my back pocket vibrated twice, indicating that it was you. I was getting a message from you. I pulled out my phone and read your message.
What are you doing?
I don't know, I replied. I didn't. I don't. I just wanted to see you.
I have to close tonight. That means there's a chance I will be here after the restaurant closes.
You wanted me to leave. I knew you did. You've just always been too nice to outright say when I'm doing something wrong.
Do you want me to leave? I asked. I laid my phone down and laid my head against the hand that wasn't drawing.
I can't ask you to do either. But I don't know what you expect.
A flashback to a month ago had popped into my head. We were in the booth in front of mine and my book was laying on the table. You were sitting in front of me, the restaurant was relatively empty since it was Sunday night. You were looking at me, trying to convince me to let you buy me food but I kept turning you down. You spent that entire time trying to buy me food, and I kept denying you until finally, after you got off work, you bought yourself a huge slice of pie and we shared it.
After we finished we went to the one place we always met up: the park. It was empty and dark and cold but we walked the trail around it regardless. We spent the entire night laughing and I would tell you that it was one of the best nights of my life, but in reality, every minute I had ever spent with you was one of the best.
My heart broke a little more.
Yes, you can ask me. And I don't know either. I just wanted to see you. I was honest with you. But you didn't want to see me. I shouldn't have come.
The bubble that says you're typing popped up and my breath caught in my throat. I knew you were going to tell me to leave.
Nash, you've been really good to me in the past but I can't do this anymore. It's too much for me.
My heart broke. My cheeks were burning and I just wanted to run. I wanted to run to you, I wanted to run in the opposite direction. I want you, you don't want me. I put my stuff down and sat there for a moment. I looked up, looked at all the people in the restaurant talking with family and loved ones, everyone having a good time. I felt jealous of them because their hearts weren't once again breaking in front of them like mine was.
I took a deep breath. It was over. I packed up my stuff and stood up. I just wanted a hug from you. I wanted to say goodbye. I didn't want us to end.
I looked at you one last time, you were facing towards me, looking down. I threw my backpack over my shoulder and walked out without looking back.
I showed up wanting to see you, to have a conversation. I wanted to tell you I miss you and still love you, even though you should already know that. But, as I said before, things don't always go as you want them to. You asked me to leave.
