The One

“You know how you asked me that question the other day…?”

I nodded shyly.

He looked down for a moment before continuing.

“I don’t know if I’ve met the one yet…

…But what I do know is that you’re NOT the one.”

Those words resounded in my head for the hundredth time as I rode the subway back to my place.

I got off at my stop and took a deep breath before I trudged up the last stretch of road before getting to my place.

I tapped my legs like I was doing a “giddy-up” to get me up the hill that felt like the equivalent of Mt. Everest, and my thighs were burning in a way I had never felt before.

I barely made it into the house when I broke down in tears, bewildered at how a single question started the unraveling process of this relationship that had only started a few months ago.

After ugly-crying for an hour, I peeled myself off the floor because I didn’t have much time.

I went straight to face the big, fat mess that I now had to clean up ALL BY MYSELF.

I briskly walked down the narrow, winding steps to the basement.

The smell of the dust hit me first, and I held my breath as I opened the door and immediately burst into tears again.

Bed frames, mattresses, fragments of furniture, an old AC unit, and junk all piled up like a huge monster in the darkness, all waiting for me.

Nooooo… I can’t….

A huge mass of all the stuff that he promised to help me move.

Ugh. What a jerk! Thanks for nothing!

I couldn't think of a single person to call. Most of my friends were traveling or had already gone home for the summer—some for good.

Then another conversation with Frank drifted into my mind, adding salt to a wound that was already wide open.

“Don’t worry about it,” I told my roommates before they left for California. Frank said he would help me with all of that. We can just leave it in the basement until then.”

“Aww… that’s so sweet.What a guy. Tell him thank you for us,” they said.

I beamed with pride as I said all of this.

You shameless silly girl.

And I even moved my flight to a later date so I could spend more time with him. WHY???

Gawd, what have I done?

Red flashed before my eyes. A wave of rage swelled up like a tsunami and pummeled over me.

I started vigorously grabbing pieces of furniture, lugging them up the stairs, and tossing them out the door onto the back driveway, cursing each piece before it hit the ground.

"I don’t need help. I'll move the stupid mattress myself!"

THUD.

"Here's the bookshelf."

BANG.

"OH, YOU WANT ME TO CARRY THE AIR CONDITIONER, TOO? FINE!"

Klunk.

I kept going up and down the stairs, tossing things out the door and turning right back around to get more stuff.

By the time I dragged the last of what was left, the sweat poured down my face, my arms trembled, and my legs felt like jelly

I didn't care.

I just wanted it all gone.

By lunchtime, the basement was empty.

I sank onto the cracked concrete steps outside, wiping the sweat from my forehead as my breathing slowly returned to normal.

“See? I did it all by myself. I didn’t need ANYONE’S help”.

All. By. Myself.

Silence answered me.

No cars passing by, no dogs barking, no birds singing.

Just me and my thoughts.

Then, his voice found me again, and I could see every part of his face as he said those dreadful words.

“…You’re not the one.”

I was so mad at myself for asking that question, and I cringed at the thought of me asking it.

“Do you think you’ll KNOW when you find THE ONE?”

So ridiculous. Of course he freaked out. We had barely started dating, and I just spontaneously asked him because I thought we were having a deep moment, and…

Aahhh.

I just…I knew we only had so much time, and the hopeless romantic in me just took over.

Rourrrrr.

My stomach was growling, and I was starving. I ran up the steps, took one last look at the basement. “Goodbye forever.”

I went to the kitchen, grabbed the first bottle of water I saw, and gulped it down like nobody’s business.

I went to the sink and splashed water all over my face, as if to wash away all the bad memories of the morning.

I heard a noise in the next room, and I stopped the water for a second.

My phone!

I sprinted toward the living room and snatched up my flip phone.

“Hello?” I answered, still catching my breath.

“I'm so glad you picked up,” she said.

“Aria…?” I said with a shaky voice.

“Yes, it’s me. Jared and I aren’t going out of town, after all, so I wanted to see you before you left—” she said.

“That’s so great…” I interrupted, trying to inject my voice with enthusiasm.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, Aria…I’m so pathetic,” I choked, the waterfall starting to gush again.

Between sobs, I told her everything.

How the morning had unraveled.

The subway ride home.

The basement full of furniture.

The promises that suddenly weren't promises anymore.

And how, somewhere between carrying mattresses and dragging an old air conditioner up the stairs, I realized I was saying goodbye to much more than Boston.

“Noooo,” she said softly. “That sounds awful. You’re coming over tonight, and I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t eat anything because Jared and I are going to cook for you, and he’ll be going out to meet up with some friends, so it’ll just be me and you.”

I let out the first genuine smile I'd managed all day.

“That sounds perfect. You’re the best, Aria. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes, I can’t wait to see you,” she said.

After we hung up, I sighed with relief that the good Lord had sent me an angel to be there for me on that day.

I still had quite a bit of packing to do, so I got to it right away, knowing the rest of the evening belonged to Aria.

Thinking about seeing Aria breathed fresh energy into me, and I could feel it flow through me as I packed with focus and determination.

For the first time all day, I felt a flicker of hope.

As I got ready to head to Aria's apartment, I noticed the small gift sitting on my desk.

The gift I had prepared for Frank to give to him on our last day together.

A simple brown package tied with ribbon.

Inside was a CD I had spent hours making, each song carefully chosen to encourage him when life felt heavy.

I knew he struggled and went to some dark places sometimes, and instead of numbing the pain, I wanted him to find his way back to the things that made him feel alive.

I hoped this music would help him do that.

I had tucked a handwritten card inside too.

I slipped the box into my bag.

Just in case, I told myself.

After all, Aria lived only a few blocks from his apartment.

*****

Aria always had a way of seeing me—of making me feel like I could keep going when I didn't think I could. There was a warmth about her that made even the heaviest days feel lighter, and somehow, she could always make me laugh.

As we hugged goodbye that evening, knowing it might be one of the last times we'd see each other for a long while, she held me by the shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes.

"I hope you know how valuable and beautiful you are. No matter what happens with Frank, I want you to know that,” she said.

I gave her a small smile and hugged her tightly.

I wanted to believe her.

I just wasn't sure I did.

*****

The next morning, I woke up with an unexpected sense of clarity.

The ache was still there, but it didn’t feel as frantic. It was quieter now, and I knew what I wanted to do.

I called the airline before I could second-guess myself.

"I'd like to move my flight up to Friday," I told the customer service representative.

There was a brief pause.

Then, she did a polite chuckle.

"Yes, Ms. Kim. I know we had pushed back your flight to the very last flight of the day on Monday because your plans had changed."

Of course, it was the same woman I spoke with the other day!

Heat rushed to my face.

"Yes," I admitted, wishing I could disappear through the phone. "My plans... changed...again."

"I understand. “I would be happy to help you with that," she said in a gentle voice.

Oh my gawd. Even the customer service representative can tell I totally got dumped.

Within a few minutes, it was done, and the best part was that she decided not to charge me for changing it again.

She totally knows I got dumped, and she feels sorry for me.

There was no reason for me to stay longer.

My flight was back where it had originally been.

After packing the last of my things, I left my place.

I wasn't exactly sure where I was going or what I was going to do, but I knew I wanted to see the Charles River from the subway, one last time.

So, I walked to the “T” and hopped on for one last ride around town.

I started from Davis Square and got off at every stop that I wanted to take with me.

I walked through Harvard Square and smiled, thinking about how Elle Woods in "Legally Blonde" had been my inspiration for coming to Boston in the first place.

I walked through the Public Garden, recalling how much I loved coming here every week, how it never got old, and how it still gave me such touchy-feely vibes.

I wandered through Boston Common and passed by the fountain before standing in front of the bench where Frank said those dreadful words to me and saw myself walk away from him as he called my name.

Then, I saw the doors of the subway shut as I ran through them, making it on the subway, just in the nick of time.

I closed my eyes and took it all in.

The wonderful mess that made my experience so incredibly sacred.

All part of what made it mine.

I let the sounds of the city settle around me and watched the leaves moving gently in the mellow breeze.

I found myself taking the long way everywhere.

Past little cafés where friends and I had lingered over famous hot chocolate.

Down brick sidewalks I had walked a hundred times without having to think about where I was going.

Past quiet corners that had slowly become part of me over the last two and a half years.

Some places reminded me of Frank.

But some simply didn't.

And I wanted to keep it that way.

This city had given me far more than one relationship.

It had stretched me.

Changed me.

Become home.

And I refused to reduce it down to him.

True, I was in pain, and my heart still felt raw.

But I refused to let one heartbreak define everything Boston had been to me.

And underneath the pain was something even stronger.

Gratitude.

I started to head back to my place when my phone rang.

As I made my way back to the apartment, my phone rang.

Frank.

I stared at his name until the ringing stopped.

A few moments later, it rang again.

Then again.

Finally, I answered.

Before I could say a word, he spoke.

“Hi. I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, but I have something I want to say to you.”

“Oh…ok…” I said quietly.

"I've been a total jerk."

His voice sounded different and smaller somehow.

"You've been nothing but sweet to me. You’ve been instrumental in bringing me back to the things that really matter, and I started to see light in my life again. I can't believe I said those words to you."

I bit my lip and let out a sigh.

Part of me had wanted to hear those words, but part of me didn’t.

"I'm so sorry, Hilda. I’m so sorry for hurting you. I feel awful,” he said.

There was a long silence.

“Thank you for saying that,” I said. “Thank you for having the courage to be honest.”

“I really didn’t mean to say it that way…It’s just… I can’t—I just don’t think I can do the whole long-distance thing. I mean I can’t. And I didn’t want to lead you on knowing that I can’t…”

“Yeah…. You did say that you didn’t know if you could…”

“I mean, I thought I could… with you… but…”

Then he asked gently,

"I really would like to see you before you go. Can I see you one more time?"

YES. My heart screamed YES.

Every part of me wanted to say yes.

“I think we’ve said everything that needed to be said, and I don’t know what seeing each other would—I don’t think seeing each other would be a good idea.”

It would just make it too hard.

For ME.

“I just wanted to see you one last time and say goodbye.”

Silence.

“No, Frank,” I said firmly.

“I understand, and I respect your decision… But, in case you change your mind, don’t hesitate to call me. I’m available to meet with you…

We both paused as if we were thinking: I guess this is it, then.

“Thanks, Hilda… for everything.”

“Take care of yourself, Frank. Bye.”

The tears streamed down my face as I hung up the phone.

I sat for a bit longer so I could gather myself before I made my way back home.

It was starting to get dark, and I didn’t want to be out too late because my shuttle was coming to pick me up early the next morning.

I pulled out my earbuds to listen to my music so I wouldn’t break down on the subway and cause a scene.

The tears wouldn't stop.

As I reached into my bag for a tissue, my hand brushed against something.

The gift.

I had completely forgotten about it.

I stared at it for a long moment.

Then I looked up to see where I was.

The next stop was his.

I stood up.

When the train pulled into the station, I stepped onto the platform.

The familiar walk to his apartment suddenly felt much longer than I remembered.

The little package in my hand felt heavier than usual.

When I reached his building, I climbed the stairs slowly until I stood outside his door.

I could hear my heart pounding.

For a moment, I thought about knocking.

Just one knock.

Just one more conversation.

Just one more goodbye.

Instead, I gently placed the gift in front of his door.

The ribbon still perfectly tied.

I looked at it one last time.

"I hope you find your way back," I whispered.

Then I turned around and walked away, and I didn’t look back.

*****

The next morning, the airport shuttle pulled up just after sunrise.

I guided the driver as he loaded all of my luggage into the back.

I took one last look at the house and climbed inside the car.

I watched Boston as it faded behind me.

At the airport, I found my gate, and for one fleeting moment, I caught myself scanning the terminal.

Maybe...Just maybe…

But I already knew.

I knew he wasn't coming.

I had never even told him I'd moved my flight.

I boarded the plane and settled into my seat.

As the plane taxied down the runway, I pressed my forehead against the window.

The city that had become home grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared beneath the clouds.

I cried the entire flight home.

For the first time in my life, I had the courage to let go of someone I loved.

I knew it in my heart.

Summer was over, and so were we.