The Hard Way: When You Believe the Boy

We had been talking for weeks. Everyday, for hours at a time. Even when it was silent, it was still comfortable and familiar. Sure, he might be living on the other side of the country, but I don’t feel the space. At least, not until he hung up.

He said he would come visit, fly all the way across the country just to meet me. It was like I was the only girl in the world, and he would travel all this way to see me. It was unfathomable, nothing like this had happened to her before.

As the days grew closer to the designated date, both of their excitement raised by the hour. It was a strange concoction of nervousness and eagerness; if it were to be the same as it was on the phone, there would be no separating them. If it goes well, how will I be able to say goodbye to him at the end?

He boarded the plane on Friday morning, and she prepared her bags for the weekend, gassed up the car, and set off.

I knew it was risky to go… people do lie easily, a lesson I’ve already learned a few times. Nonetheless, I optimistically went. Even after the argument Mom and I had about her driving out there for a “stranger” on the internet. “He could be anybody! And you still want to go! What if he is lying, people are good fakers on the internet!” Deep down, I knew she was right. But I had to see what it would be like. What if it’s true?

As I was driving there, my phone kept buzzing. I ignored it the whole drive, not being able to text while on the freeway. When I finally arrived, there was a text from him:

“You should come tomorrow instead. I got caught up with work stuff, and I’m so tired. My Aunt also found out I was coming out here and invited me over for dinner. I can’t say no.”

I read the message in disbelief. “You said you were coming out here for me, to spend time together. I’m already on the road.” I pressed send. He said that, that’s what he told me… am I so stupid to believe it?

“Come back tomorrow. It’s only a two hour drive for you, I flew all the way here.”

“You flew here, and yet you want me to just drive back home?”

“I didn’t plan for this to happen.”

“Clearly, you don’t plan shit.”

As I sat there angry in my car, I thought: fuck it, I’m already here. I might as well make the most of it. And as I walked through the streets of San Francisco alone yet surrounded by people, I thought about all the lies he said. “I’ve never connected with someone the way I have with you,” “You’re gorgeous,” “I can’t wait to be with you,” “Be with me.” I don’t know what hurt more: the fact that he didn’t care to ask what I was doing that night or the fact that we would never go back to what we were before.

Everything we were before, it’s vanished. It’s as if nothing ever happened between us. So I realize: talk is cheap, boys are vicious liars, and mothers are always right (as much as I hate to believe it).