Two years. Its been over two years now since Ryan and I were together. Since that heartbreaking goodbye at Heathrow Airport. Its been over two years since we were just another young couple, desperately in love but unable to be together.
We stopped saying we loved each other a long time ago. The first couple phone conversations after I left London always ended the same way, with those three little words spoken as casually as any other goodbye. But those words soon became too hard to speak, and far too painful to have to hear.
I never stopped thinking it though. I never denied that I still loved him with all my heart. If he had asked, I would have said the words again, I would not have hidden my true feelings.
When we got back in touch this past summer, love was a word we saved only for an email signature. Have a nice day- Love, Ry. How was your night? Love, Em. I sign all my correspondense with the L word. It didnt need to mean anything other than a typical sign off. But we never uttered the word aloud. It was forbidden. It was dangerous to overstep the boundary of our newly revitalized friendship.
I called him this morning. He was driving around with a friend looking for a good spot to surf (its summer in South Africa). We spoke briefly only. He brought up moving to America again. Its nice to hear him mention it but it isnt still for two more years and I dont know if I can wait in limbo quite that long.
Eventually we had to go. It always takes an extra 5 minutes just to get out all the goodbyes. Thanks for calling. Talk soon. Nice to speak with you. Be well. Have a nice day... Then a new one from him. "I love you baby."
I was in shock. I said it back and with that we ended the conversation. Are we really still in love?
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