Meet Me in Tampa

"So, that's it, huh?" I'll pretend to be more upset when you reply. I'll be distraught. I can be torn up inside when you say “I'm so sorry. I never should have asked you to come.” I can play hurt.

Our joint support system will be surprised that this holiday trip didn't end in the proposal I had warned them about. How laughable it is that you will be the only one in the world not to know about the opal engagement ring burning a hole in my pocket. It will be even more laughable when I tell them I’m not going anymore. How funny is it that I’ll never meet you face to face.

We had half jokingly picked out rings for each other months ago. I’m just the idiot who bought hers so it was ready to go. Both feet in first, let’s go. Marry me. I’ll move to Florida and get a job so that I can pitch in on your rent. I’ll buy your cat treats and your mom’s favorite flowers. I’ll save for a car so we don’t have to always take yours. My life will translate right over here and nothing will be as terrible as being away from your side has been.

The internet is an awful place where good and bad people can lie to each other about being different than they really are. Sweet young women with adorable fascinations can tell other ladies how pretty they are. These ladies won’t see the attention as a threat. I welcomed it. No one had made my heart patter like a Sondheim song before. My poetry flowed about us as you got swept away in my prose. It shows how little I know about love. When a woman is telling you every fault she has and you write it off like someone saying they prefer to blink every 9 seconds instead of 8. That doesn’t matter. Nothing changes my feelings for you. How cute it is that you just think you’re celiac. Let me learn a gluten free croissant recipe so that if I’m ever 1,000 miles closer I can make them for you. This makes sense when you fall in love over the internet.

She was constantly in contact with me. A text to wake up to, and then one million texts during the day. And texts would keep pouring in through the night as though she was not two hours ahead of me and in desperate need of sleep. How sweet. How cute. How we couldn’t go more than a few hours without checking in. There weren’t enough hours in the day to share all the boring bits of ourselves as we convince ourselves we’re in love. We joke about it before confessing it.

I love you. I love you, too.

First comes love, then comes… I bought the ring. It went on sale, if you can count 15 percent off as on sale. I wait anxiously to intercept the ring so that my roommates don’t question the jewelry delivery so close to the holidays. I don’t really tell anyone in my life about you, just my sister. I don’t tell her about the ring.

You half joked about me coming to see you. We could meet. You’d pick me up from the airport, I’d run to you and we’d share a kiss of there you are. We’d spend a week together. Just a matter of planning out when. We can’t miss Christmas with our families. There’s too much tradition and suspicion. You celebrate with yours, I’ll stay with mine, and then the week after, I’ll fly out. I’ll stay with you and your cat. Show me your favorite coffee shop, I’ll pay for dinner. Let me take you out on New Year’s Eve. Let’s go swimming. You say yes. I book a nonrefundable flight with my savings.

You text one text less each day. When it goes from 200 to 199, who could tell? When we’re at 50 a day and I look back at the 200 days, I wonder why. I ask. Your parents are getting divorced. You’re upset. You need a bit of time. Christmas is going to be hard. Your family is fighting. Everything is changing. Now you have to spend Christmas in Ohio. You’ll be back in time. Never mind. Christmas and New Year’s in Ohio. You don’t ask if I’d come to Ohio. I can change my flight but you never ask. I never offer. I tell you to take your time. I’m in no rush to make you feel rushed.

I move my flight for the following week. I’ll figure it out with work about changing my time off. I let you know I moved it. I don’t hear from you for 2 days. You say thank you. You message me 50 times. I feel like we’re getting back on track.

Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas.

Happy New Year.

You apologize for being absent. You say sorry for not responding. You tell me you feel like a downer making all our talks about how upset you are. I tell you I don’t mind. I just want you to feel like you can talk with me about anything. We don’t say anything about my visit. The opal ring I bought sits in it’s package, hidden in my sock drawer. If I want to utilize the return policy, it has to be sent off tomorrow. I’m searching for a reason to keep it. I can’t find one. You don’t respond anyway. I head to the post office. I move my flight again, for June.

There’s this feeling in my chest that is radiating heat and anxiety. I am waiting for your response. 6 days. You don’t have anything to say. I had just told you that I don’t want to pressure you into telling me anything. I shouldn’t have said that. You take it as reason enough to not write me back. 9 days. 14. 30. 82. 109. 200. 365. 1,051.

Should I have text you one last time? “So, that’s it, huh?” Would I feel more satisfied with the closure? Is there something you could have said on day 81 that kept me from blocking you? I traveled the following winter. I spent my flight credit visiting my great grandmother in Arizona. I took my mom. She never knew why I was going to Florida. She just knows that I invited her and that Breakfast Bitch has great hash browns. In every group chat I left I spent some extra time browsing your posts. I laugh at myself when I see your engagement ring. Sent to our mutual friends three months after your last text to me. Was he as fast as me or did you know I was never visiting you in the first place? I’m sitting here almost three years later wondering if I was ever your love or if you just really know the keys to play. Scanning sheet music instead of playing from the heart. Fooled me. I’ve not been in love since.

There’s something to be said for falling in love on the internet. What a rush to be so connected. What a ridiculous habit to find someone worth your time in any time zone but your own. No one is truly worth your time. Maybe I’ll find someone but they won’t be anywhere digitally. Buy me a coffee. Flirt with me as you touch my hair. Text me never. Spend your time with me in person, not in simultaneous movie viewing and messaging back and forth. I am worth the physical cost. I returned the only ring I will ever buy.