Page 70 of Between Then and Now
“And I think that’s the beauty of falling in love with someone you’ve known your whole life,” Emily adds. “You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to hide. He’s seen all sides of you, and he accepts them. And if you’re worried that one day he wakes up and doesn’t like what he sees anymore, then it’s his loss, Bon. Because you’re amazing. And coming from a chronic overthinker, believe me when I say that you shouldn’t depriveyourself of the chance to experience things by destroying it all in your head before it even happens.”
I feel the tears welling up again.
“I didn’t know you had that many feelings to share, Em,” Kate says with a chuckle. “Is that how you felt with Rob?”
Emily rolls her eyes. “My feelings have an off switch. That I control. I only turn them on for moments like these,” she says. “As for Rob, I don’t know. That’s a story for another time,” she adds. We all look at each other with warning glances and decide to let the subject drop.
“They’re right, you know,” Kate says. “Vulnerability isn’t a weakness, Bon. It means you’re strong enough to go through this relationship without reservation. Just completely yourself.”
I’m still crying and still eating my sandwich. “What should I do?”
“What do you want to do?” Kate asks.
“I want to tell him how I feel,” I say with conviction. “He’ll be back in a week; I think I can handle that much.”
I look at my friends, their words sinking in. They’re right. I’ve been so afraid of being seen, of being rejected, that I’ve been running away from what I truly want.
“Thanks, guys,” I say, my voice steadier. “I needed to hear that.”
“Now that we got that sorted out, I’m going back to sleep. Keep me posted.” Em turns off Facetime.
When I was in college, I had a boyfriend named Greg. He was the kind of guy that seemed perfect on paper–you know, the one who has his future mapped out and includes you in his plans, all that. But like most relationships I’ve had in the past, I was different with him. I’ve had parts of me that I kept hiddenbehind an invisible wall. For a while, it worked. We were together for a year when I started to let the wall fall down, little by little. I tried to show him pieces of who I really was–through the quirky clothes I wore, the movies I watched, the music I listened to, the odd food I loved. But every time I did, he would shut me down. He’d tell me to stop acting so weird. To “behave”. To “take it down a notch, Bon.” As if my true self is a glitch that had to be fixed.
Eventually, though, my bottled-up feelings erupted and I confronted him. I stayed true to myself and told him to accept me or leave. And then he left. Just like that. That’s the reason why Greg was the last boyfriend I had. I couldn’t bear to go through all that again.
But now, everything feels different. This. Is this what it feels like to be really in love? Genuinely, truly, unconditionally in love? If it is, then it’s scary. It’s terrifying, actually. Because love like this comes with no guarantees, no safety nets. So many thoughts swirl in my mind, making my heart race with both hope and dread. But it’s also exciting. It’s like my heart is a kite caught in a fierce wind, tugging and pulling, desperate to soar but scared of being torn apart.
I’m sitting alone in my room tonight, contemplating. In these quiet moments, everything is clearer. In these quiet moments, I’m allowed to be honest with myself. And in the spirit of being honest, I know that letting go of love like this–letting go of Ryan–is scarier than the possibility of it not working out. The thought of never knowing what we could be is scarier than any risk this love imposes.
So, despite the knots in my stomach and the flutter in my chest, I know I have to tell him. I know I have to try. Because life is too short for hesitation, too fleeting to let love pass byunspoken. For the first time in my life, I’m ready to dive in headfirst. If we work out until the end, then it’s perfect. If we don’t, then it’s still worth every moment I spent living it. Because some things in life are too important to leave to chance, and this–and Ryan–is one of those things.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Ryan
It’s only been three days since Bon left, and I have another five days remaining for volunteer work. But I can’t stay here much longer. I can’t stay in the room I shared with her—the room where I fell in love with her. Who am I kidding? I probably fell for her on the streets of Magnolia Heights and I didn’t even realize. Every corner of this place is a minefield of memories, each detonating with every glance.
I stand in the doorway, taking in the room one last time before I leave. The memories flood back, almost overwhelming me. I look at her bed, and I can almost see her there, hunched over her laptop during her sleepless nights, editing her film with an intensity that both fascinated and worried me. The glow from her screen used to cast strange, dancing shadows on the walls, and sometimes I’d join her, offering snacks or just silent company. I’d distract her, joke around, and do all the things I don’t usually do with anyone who isn’t her.
I recall the nights she watched movies alone, and the nights we watched together. That horror film—her choice, not mine—where she hid behind her vibrant cartoon pajamas but still managed to keep her eyes on the screen. That was the night we kissed for the first time. At the time we were merely practicing, pretending. But if I’m being honest, there was already something rooted there. We were both just in denial.
Her bed is empty now, but it’s filled with echoes of her laughter, her groans of frustration when editing didn’t go well, and her soft, sleepy murmurs.
I turn my gaze to my bed, and my heart aches even more. The memories of three nights ago rush in with such force that itnearly knocks the breath out of me. That night was the best night of my life. And Bon was–is–the best person in the world. And I’m gonna go to her.
With a sigh, I walk out of the room and out of the inn. I make my way through the bustling streets, but there's one more stop I need to make before I head to the airport.
The Blank Book Archives has always held a special place in our hearts, and I remember the exact book Bon wrote in. It's the closest thing I have to hearing her voice right now.
As I step into the quiet sanctuary of the archives, the smell of old books fills the air, calming my racing thoughts. I make my way to the back, where the shelves are lined with countless volumes of blank books, each one holding the secrets of countless visitors. I find the one I'm looking for and carefully pull it off the shelf.
I flip through the pages, my fingers trembling slightly. Finally, I see her handwriting, elegant and familiar, and I hold in my breath as I read her words:
I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to tell you this, but our practice date gave me butterflies and made me question everything about our friendship. Our first kiss sent my feelings into a rabbit hole and I haven’t gone up since. When I almost drowned and your face was the first thing I saw, it took everything in me to keep myself from kissing you just so you’d stay close and never leave. I think I love you, Miller. Sucks I can’t be as lovable.
Yours even before you know it,
Bonbon
