“So, what changed between then and last night?” I ask timidly.
Bryan stares absentmindedly out of my bedroom window as the sunlight dances through the thin purple curtains. Closing his eyes, as if he’ll find the answers hidden behind his lids, he finally starts talking. “I spent the last few months struggling with my family. Watching the people you love the most fall apart right before your eyes is pure torture. But when Emmie was staying with me for the summer, I felt alive again. I know it’s cheesy, but she gave me hope again. And then when I saw you again, I knew I had to take a chance.” He pulls my face to his and lightly grazes his lips across mine. “I just didn’t know how. And then when I saw you with that guy at camp, I lost my shit. Everything I thought about what happened between us, came crashing down around me.” Through tensely clenched jaw, he mutters, “I let my anger about everything – about you, about my dad, about my mom – I let it consume me. It changed me. “
I softly press my lips to his cheek and whisper against his skin, “It’s okay. You’re still you.” He leans into my lips and my heart swells. I missed him so much.
“But I wasn’t for a long time and I didn’t like who I was. I spent a lot of time thinking about how unfair I was to you when we broke up. I told you that you weren’t good enough, that you had to change.” His face twists in guilt. “How fucked up is that? We could have worked on things. Maybe we could have figured them out, but I told you to go fix yourself and here I was becoming the exact same kind of person I told you not to be.”
That’s pretty harsh to hear and it kills me to think that we could have figured things out a long time ago. Opting to take the high road, I bite back what could be a very pissed-off outburst. The truth is that he was right. Back then, I wasn’t a whole person; I was a shadow of the woman I’ve become.
“But Bryan, don’t you realize that I wouldn’t be who I am now, if you didn’t do that.” I take a deep breath and hope that my words make sense. “Most of what you said back then was right. I didn’t have faith in myself. I didn’t love myself. If we hadn’t broken up, I might have never found the strength to figure out who I am. I’m not going to lie; it wasn’t a pretty time for me. But I did a lot of soul searching and I spent a lot of time with my family. I learned so much about who I really am and I found out that I’m pretty awesome.” I flip my hair playfully to emphasize the dorkiness of what I’ve just said. His goofy grin and small laugh reassure me so I continue. “Maybe that’s just how things were supposed to be. We were meant to spend some time apart to figure things out, to pick up the pieces so that we could both be whole when we found each other again.”
Before I can even offer up my lame smile, his lips are on mine. His hands are in my hair and he’s pulling me so close to his body that I feel like we’re going to melt together as one. Pulling back from the branding kiss, he leans his forehead against mine. “I’m still scared.” His admission knocks me for a loop because it’s as if he’s just read my mind.
“Me too, Bry. I’m scared I won’t be enough for you, for us.”
“Shh … Melanie, I see how different you are, but you’re the same too. Sweet, kind, funny. You’re everything I fell in love with in the first place and so much more. I’m just afraid we’ll screw it up again.” His thumbs brush my cheeks tenderly. “What if we’re too different?” His vulnerability cuts through me.
I don’t want to verbalize the fear I feel. There’s some truth to what he’s saying, but in my heart, in my gut, I have a feeling that the different people we’ve become are the people who were meant to be together.
Recalling the words he said to me so long ago, I laugh softly. “Do you remember what you said to me when we first met? That you would show me rather than tell me all of the ways we would be perfect together?”
He pulls his face away from mine. Tapping his finger on his kiss-swollen lower lip, he acts as if he’s trying to recall some long-lost secret. “Yeah, I think I remember saying something like that.” I swat him teasingly on his arm.
I shoot him a look of seriousness and get lost in his melted-chocolate eyes for a minute. “Let me show you just how good we can be. Let me wear you down and prove to you that even though we’ve both changed, we’re better off for it.”
“I think I can do that, Melanie. But just what did you have in mind?” He arches an eyebrow at me on his last words.
I drop the sheet from around my breasts and straddle his hips. “A little of this,” I say as I wiggle on top of him. On another wiggle, I add “And a little of that.”
His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my waist as he nudges his hips up into mine. “I think I like your plan,” he mutters lustily. I lean down onto his body and mumble against his lips, “Oh, no. You’re going to love my plan.”
We spend the rest of the day showing each other just how good we are for together, coming up for air and food only when necessary. As dusk settles in and the sun descends behind the mountains, the sky is set ablaze in a fiery hotness that mirrors the day we just spent together.
Sprawling out in my bed, Bryan is wearing only his boxers and I’ve opted to cover up with an extra-long T-shirt and panties. Cuddled at his side, I let my fingers trace random patterns across his chest.
“So where does this leave us?” Damn me and my stupid need for definition.
Bryan clears his throat as he tucks his hand behind his head. “I don’t know, Melanie. I don’t know.”
“Yeah, me either.” And that’s the honest truth. Sure, the last day has been great and we’ve talked a lot – among other things – but, there’s still so much to figure out. “How about we just take it slowly, one day at a time? We’ll see how things go, day-by-day. Sound good?” My suggestion actually doesn’t seem half bad.
Kissing the top of my head, Bryan nods his agreement. “It’s perfect, Melanie.”
“It might be a little cold tomorrow, but we could start back at the beginning.” I point to Emmie’s picture of Happy Times Waterfall that hangs on the wall above my computer.
“Just be sure to wear your sneakers.” I poke him in the side and stick my tongue out at him. He just pulls me closer to his side and inhales the sweet citrus scent of my hair. “Cold or not, I can’t think of a better way to spend the day. As long as I’m with you, it’ll be perfect.”
I roll my eyes. “Will you stop saying that?”
“What?” He looks down at me, clearly confused by my words.
“Perfect. Things are never going to be perfect. It’s impossible.” I pull him closer to me and kiss his lips tenderly. “We’re not perfect, neither one of us. And we never will be, but we can be imperfect together.”
His lips dance across mine and happiness shimmers in his warm, brown eyes. “Then here’s to one imperfect day after another.”
18
December 2013
It’s lame to say, but very true – Bryan and I have spent the last month together basking in the glow of our not-so-perfect love. We’ve fought and made up and then fought again, but through it all we’ve learned to be honest – both with ourselves and with each other. When we first got back together, there were a few times that I thought we wouldn’t make it. Like when he gets stressed out and angry about home. Or when I feel like I don’t deserve his love and affection after all I put us through. That’s usually when he reminds me that it wasn’t entirely my fault.