Free Deciding Tomorrow by Renee Ericson Page B

still. You’ve always been going, running, moving, and I guess that hasn’t changed with time. Now, you’re the one resting, and I can’t seem to hold still, so I’m writing you this instead.
There’s so much on my mind that I never said. We only had so little time together, and I wasn’t sure what was right or wrong to say during your stay. There’s so much between us that everything can’t be covered on such a short visit.
First, I want to let you know that I miss you already. I’ve missed you for years, and I didn’t even know it. Now, you’re within my reach, and I’m missing you again. When you asked me to beg for you to stay, you have no idea how hard it was for me not to. Even now, I’m having thoughts about turning off your alarm and mine, so you would miss your flight, and I could blame it on fate, but that would be a lie. We only get so many chances with fate. I know we have ours right now, and I’m not going to mess that up. I want you to be happy and to get everything you’ve ever wanted. You work too hard not to get that. You deserve to have it all.
Second, this—us—is going to be hard with me here in L.A. and you in Chicago, but I truly believe we can make it work. We’ve been through so much already that this will seem like nothing in comparison. But unlike all the other times when things got tough, I’m vowing to you right now that I will not fail you. When I said that I’m going to fight for us, I meant it.
Third, I love you.
Fourth, I should have said those words to you while you were here, but I didn’t. I wanted to. However, they are always on the tip of my tongue and always resting in my heart.
Fifth, I will make it up to you. I will make it all up to you.
Sixth, it’s clear to me now that my heart has been waiting for you these past years. And so have I. I will wait for however long it takes.
Seventh, please take care of my heart. Take care of you.
Eighth, did I mention, I love you?
Caritas patiens est.
Always,
Brent
    The airplane takes off and climbs higher into the early morning sky. With every passing second, I’m further away from L.A., leaving my heart.
    Closing my lids, I fold up the paper, holding it tight in my hand.
    It happened. We happened.
    Patience.
    Caritas patiens est. Brent is right. Love is patient.
    I need to be patient.
     

TEN
     
    Three days.
    Three of the longest days ever.
    That’s how much time has gone by since I left L.A. Somehow, it still feels like a dream.
    Brent and I talk daily, which helps, like he said it would. Every conversation reboots the idea that we’re real, but without seeing, touching, or holding him, it’s not the same, not even close. There are times when I’m not sure if my mind is playing tricks on me. I find myself confirming its reality by wearing his shirt. It had to be real because I wouldn’t have his garment otherwise.
    Since coming home, school has assisted in keeping me occupied. My last exam for the day is complete, and I’m making a special trip downtown. On the subway, heading toward the Loop, I text Brent…just because.
Me: School’s out. On the L now. Going to meet Cody and Shauna for coffee. What are you doing?
    I stare at my phone and wait, hoping for and willing a quick reply. He should be done with practice for the day, but he did mention going to work out this afternoon. Feeling like an idiot and embarrassingly desperate, I go to slip my phone into my coat pocket, but then it buzzes in my hand.
Brent: Just finished lunch with Paul and Johan. About to head to the gym. Good day?
    I don’t want to tell him that I miss him terribly. It won’t help my longing or the distance.
Me: Yes. Great day. Exams went well. Saw my academic adviser today and set up my classes for next quarter. Should be able to graduate this spring—on schedule.
Brent: That’s great. You deserve it.
Me: Thanks.
Brent: You discuss grad school?
Me: A little.
Brent: And?
Me: He said that I needed to apply, like, yesterday if I want to go in