cold fingertips

I think my love-giver ran out of batteries.
That's the text message I just sent to my friend Carli.
What's wrong with me?
Everyone keeps saying nothing. But I feel weird.

Sitting on a rock, my fingers numb from climbing. It's been unseasonably warm, and we're definitely taking advantage of that. I brush my hair out of my face and glance at him with a silly smile. He's talking to me about my SOIL 2000 class that I should be going to soon. I can't really concentrate, because I'm still getting nervous butterflies from thinking about two days ago... and how that's probably going to happen again right now. I don't know if I can do it again! I'm not very good at kissing I don't think. Not my fault, it was my first time. I turn and smile at him again. Just as I feel it coming, I look away. Nervous laughter. I am cold on the way home.

I had come home for the billionth weekend of my sophomore year of college. Two hours spent pretending everything was perfect. Telling him not to leave, because I came home for him, and I knew it was the last time I'd see him before I went back. Wishing he'd say he never wanted to go. Watch him walk away from me and up the stairs. That heavy feeling clenches my heart. I walk dizzily down the hallway, up the stairs, through the kitchen. Watch him slip his shoes on. Hand on the door handle. I feel so frustrated, so helpless. Why am I the only one trying to make this work? I hold out my arms, a surrender, a plea. He shuffles over like his feet are made of lead, and pulls me in. I make myself believe it's real. But when he pulls away, and I don't let go, I see the look on his face. I say good-bye. Watch him get in his car and drive away. My forehead and nose make a print on the window.

I'm so done with this, I'm thinking on the way home. What was he thinking? I knew it was over the moment that happened. So sad. I really thought we were meant to be. Oh well, I haven't been feeling it for the past week. All he talks about is watering his trees, buying furniture, and how he doesn't need a TV. He says he can't commit to me. He doesn't see himself getting married for a long time. But we don't have to talk about that right now, he smiles like it's not a big deal. I raise my eyebrows. Yes, we do have to talk about this right now. He looks surprised, and then launches into his speech. I nod, uh huh, yeah, makes sense, so does this mean we're breaking up? He says, I don't like to put labels on things. We'll still be good friends. I nod, and start getting out of the car. He asks if he can walk me to the door, and with much more force than I meant I say, why wouldn't you? Now he's really uncomfortable. He walks me up and gives me a good friends side-hug. I push open the door, and stand in the middle of the entryway, my mom looks up from the couch.

My love-giver isn't out of batteries.
I was wrong.
It just hasn't met its match yet.

p.s. I love only having one final.