A Love Story: Part Two
I didn’t expect death to be the thing to bring us together.
A few days after he left, my cousin passed away suddenly. I watched every person and pillar of strength in my life fall apart simultaneously. The intensity of each person’s grief meant most of us stayed away out of respect. As much as I wanted to be there to hold and hug and love every member of my family, this kind of tragedy is untouchable. Irreparable. Even to this day, I can’t put into words how tremendous this loss is.
A couple days after the accident, he text me randomly to check in. His simple hello sent me unraveling. He called me the next chance he could.
He sympathized. He empathized. Having lost someone significant in his life, he was the only person who understood. I could finally talk without choking on the words. I was able to work through my thoughts without drowning in the darkness of grief. He paused in silence as I cried and offered insights when I found myself at a loss in what to do. In the typical Kyle fashion, he even found a way to make me laugh. Oh, the power and potency of a smile; such an extraordinary thing.
His most beautiful words in that pivotal moment still impact me to this day.
He said. “Don’t forget, it’s a beautiful day to be alive.”
We hung up the phone and I finally had the courage to get out of bed. It was the first time after her death I consciously chose life. And because of him, I continue to choose life, in each moment of every day.
On Sunday, August 16, 2015, I sat at my computer and wrote a letter to all the people I loved. To the people who had wronged me or mishandled my heart. To the people I had done wrong to. It was an emotional and daunting task, but death puts the importance of life and the relationships you have into perspective.
As I was inching towards the bottom of a bottle wine, I poured myself one last glass and wrote a letter to him. I agonized over the words. What do I say? How do I say it? Do I put it all out there? What if this ruins the friendship we’ve fought so hard to build? What if he doesn’t feel the same?
It was scary as fuck to confront my feelings after all these years, but I managed to find the words. In fact, I found the words in twenty different ways. Each draft expanded further from the last about how I felt. How I have always felt. When I finally saved the twentieth version to my desktop, I stared blankly at the screen. What now?
I opened Facebook Messenger and noted the date of our last exchange.
June 2014. I drove a friend to the Esalen Institute in Big Sur. Instead of turning around and driving home, I went all the way to San Francisco. I casually mentioned getting a hotel, but I planned on sleeping in my car if it meant the slight chance of getting coffee with Kyle the next morning. Being the amazing human he is, he offered his couch for comfort. Of course I accepted and the weekend we had together was one of the most memorable weekends of our ongoing relationship.
Fast forward a year and a couple months later. This time I was reaching out with similar motives, but an entirely different message. I pasted the contents of the letter into the box and stared at the screen for what felt like eternity. Just delete it. It’s better with him not knowing. You finally put your feelings into words, but you know deleting this is best. Do what’s best.
So I hit send (read it here).
And then I cried. I cried more than I have ever cried before. In mourning. In celebration. In devastation and exhaustion and sorrow. As the sun started peeking in my bedroom window, I crawled into bed and continued to cry myself to sleep. I prepared myself for his impending rejection. I prepared for the rejection from every person I wrote a letter to. I prepared to leave my entire life, including him, behind and begin a new chapter in another country. A different life. A new life. My life. Without him. Distance and timing were never our strong suit anyways, right? Heartbreak? Total devastation. But hey. Nothing new experiences living 8000 miles away can’t fix. I knew I would be okay. I would be broken knowing he didn’t love me too, but there was still so much to look forward to. At least now, he knew. What he did moving forward was entirely on and up to him. Welcome to the friend zone, Hayli. Get comfortable. It’s going to be a long and tumultuous ride.
….. And instead?
Instead I woke to this.
Special thanks to all the lovebirds in the world rooting for our success. Your support gives life to these stories. If you’re just joining, you can navigate this series here:
First Installment | Next Installment
