Chapter Fourteen; Words in the Darkness

The week Nick is in Colorado he texts and calls me so often that it hardly feels like he is gone.

His virtual presence seeps into to every hour, minute, and second of my life like warm honey spilled onto a sunny breakfast table, crawling along sweet and sticky and filling in the cracks and crevices that I never before detected on the surface of my life.

“You have new picture mail,” the words say.

Over and over.

Hiking a mountain. Playing with his best friend’s dog. Rafting down a river.

He sends it all to me. Sharing every escapade and exclaiming all along. He wishes I were there.

Next year. You have to come.

He says.

I will.

I say.

I will.

Every night he calls with the synopsis of his adventures. And we talk long into the night.

Each night.

Nick’s voice is next to me in my bed. Deep and solid. I anchor myself to it and fold arms and elbows around extra down pillows unconsciously filling in the physical space where he is not.

I love the happiness that escapes his explanations, the unmistakable elation that he doesn’t even try to hide as he tells me about how much fun he is having. How much he’s missed his best friend, and how excited he is to see him again.

And every night. He misses me. He can’t wait to see me. And he asks me. Is this really happening? Do we both really feel like this?

Feel like what? I want to excavate. But I don’t.

But just a few days before he is supposed to come home, after a week of incessant and constant connection, his voice reaches over the miles and asks me a question.

Can we make it official?

Official?

I repeat.

I want you to be my girlfriend, Audra. Why not? I don’t want to date anyone else.

Just you.

He emphasizes.

Just me.

I laugh. And negotiate.

Only if I get to wear your letterman’s jacket.

And then add.

Plus you realize, this means you’re taking me to prom.

Deal.

He says. And I hear his voice smile.

And then.

It happens.

The very emotion I have imprisoned behind bricks and bars called rational and reasonable is staring me in the soul.

Nick is saying it. He is saying the words that I have been so afraid to whisper inwardly to myself.

To me.

He is saying them.

To me.

And in the darkness of my bedroom. The fortress within me disintegrates.

I tuck my knees to my chin and curl my body into a ball of disbelief.

As I weep.

With joy.