Slingshot

I woke up in a strange room. It took me a few seconds to remember I had crashed at a friend’s place after our party. I got up, got my things ready for the trip back home, which would take about four hours, and left the apartment right after washing the dishes from the previous night, the least I could do to thank them for the hospitality.

It was about ten in the morning by then, so I got in my car and placed the key in the ignition, but instead of starting it, I just sat there, somewhat stunned by the brightness of the morning. After a couple of minutes of mild absence, I took my phone and started looking for a good place to have breakfast before driving away. As I browsed, a notification pushed into the screen of my device: D sent you a message, it stated plainly.

The f* is D? I wondered, politely, in my head. I opened the dating app and saw her picture.

It had to be some kind of miracle, or destiny, or simply the realization of something far beyond my understanding. Based on how the 3-day trip had gone from worse to okay, I like to think some hidden potential was becoming a reality, but I had no time to think about such things right then and there.

I told her I was looking for some place to have breakfast, she replied she’d like to eat; I said let’s go, she asked me to come get her. So, I went. The distance to her house was about 15 kilometers, but the space between us had reduced dramatically.

After picking her up, we went to a nice old restaurant downtown, ate, talked, and drank a lot of coffee. The space that separated us kept getting smaller as our gravitational pull forced us into an ever-closer orbit.

We went for a walk, kept talking, sharing thoughts on many random things, from dancing to sustainable crops, to life in the city. I knew by then that I wanted her, that the space left between made me itchy, uncomfortable.

But I controlled myself, of course; one does not just jump the gun when things are going well. So, I kept my cool, and she did the same, and we went for a drink to continue our impromptu date.

My best guess is that, by then, it was about three in the afternoon, and she finally said we should go to her place, which was really the only option since mine was about 300 kilometers from there. So, we drove there.

D’s place was a loop. That was the first thing I noticed, and it blew my mind. Now, when I say a loop, I mean exactly that: the hall connects to the bedroom, which connects to the living room, which connects to the dining room, which connects to the kitchen, which connects to the hall.

A loop.

We talked a bit about it, but what I wanted was to close the gap. She wanted the same, and subtly, gently, our hands reached out. I stroked her hair, her forehead, her arm. She slid her fingers between mine, and moved closer until she lay in my arms.

This was the moment our orbits locked onto each other, and passion took over. It was a glorious affair, and for the first time in very, very long, I felt free to love someone without any hesitation. We were together then, the space a negligible consideration.

Afterward, we lay for hours, talking, laughing, sharing deep secrets like people in love, until it got dark, and we got hungry.

We went for dinner, I drove her back home, and then I finally began my drive back.

It was about 11 at night, and before we said goodbye, she told me I could call her if I felt like falling asleep while driving. I said I’d be fine, but I’d take her up on that if needed.

Perhaps my first mistake was not calling.

The 4-hour drive back to my place turned into a 3-hour trip. I was euphoric. I parked outside of my apartment building, and texted her that I was home. She didn’t reply, of course; she was fast asleep. I didn’t want to think about it, but the space between us had already started expanding.

During the following days, I texted her a few times, trying not to overstep; I had to give her space, although the fact that she never started the conversation was definitely a sign of something I refused to acknowledge.

It was until the following Tuesday when I sent her a voice message where I told her I’d like to go see her. It took me about one hour to muster enough courage to do it, so of course, the time between my proposal and her reply seemed never ending.

But she did eventually respond, and the space that had been expanding until that moment suddenly appeared insignificant in comparison to the infinity that tore me away from her, because when someone says No, space becomes infinite, and there’s not much that can be done about it.

I sat with the phone in my hands, stunned as I had been almost a week before. For a few minutes it was as if a loop had closed, and I would be forced to repeat it in my head over and over, until I could make something of it.

However, I refused to because, well, why would I do that to myself? I thanked her for being straightforward, deleted our conversation, and went to bed. It’s not like I could just move on, but what else was I to do?

It’s been a couple of months now, and I have yet to understand how space can contract and expand so quickly between two people. I’ve thought of going back to the city, call her, and ask her out, but I’m not sure my light is fast enough to ever reach her again.