Page 43 of The Night We Met

“I love you too, baby.” She says as she wraps both arms around my waist.

November 2011

“This food looks amazing, Mrs. Brooks,” Kamryn proclaims with wide eyes.

It’s Thanksgiving break. But not quite Thanksgiving. Every year, we play our rival Clifton on Thanksgiving Day. And since my whole family and Kamryn are coming to the game we’re celebrating on Tuesday instead.

“Thank you sweetheart,” my Mom says with a smile.

What I love about my relationship with Kamryn is that she’s gotten along so well with my family. My brothers and little sister love her, my dad appreciates that she can hold her own when it comes to talking about sports, and my mom loves how she’s dealt with everything else that comes with dating the star QB of a Division I college.

My extended family even loves how she puts up with me and I’ve officially gotten the seal of approval. Which is why it makes this Thanksgiving so bittersweet for me. I know it’ll be our first and last. And having to put a time stamp on a relationship that’s changed you immensely breaks a little piece of my heart each day.

“Baby, are you coming outside?”

I look at her a little clueless.

“Football. Don’t worry, I’ll be the quarterback. I’d probably out-throw you anyways.”

My family tries to hide their laughter by covering it up with coughs. I look around at all of them with narrowed eyes. Kamryn looks up at me with such amusement as she cracks through my tough guy façade.

“Fine. Loser has to clean up with all the dishes.”

She holds her hand out to shake, “Deal.”

“Make sure you use soap and extra elbow grease on that pan.” Kamryn sing-songs from the living room.

Yeah my team lost. And it wasn’t on purpose I guarantee you that.

My dad, brothers, and I have set up an assembly line of sorts.

“That one’s a keeper,” My dad announces to me but only loud enough for me to hear.

My chest aches a bit at the reminder that I have to let her go soon. “Yeah. I know she is,” I agree with a thick throat.

January 2012

Well, we made it to the National Championship. But we lost by a field goal. It wasn’t that we played terribly, they just played better. Losing my senior year is the nail in the coffin on my collegiate career and also myrelationship with Kamryn. With the season over I have my coach and mom in my ear, telling me that it’s time. I’ve been pulling away and dodging Kamryn for the past two weeks. Making up excuses as to why we can’t hang out. It’s breaking my heart more than she knows.

She knows when something is wrong. Kamryn is intuitive like that. But she’s also her own worst enemy. I couldn’t tell her what was going on. So I know that she beat herself over what she did to make me pull away.

The clock is ticking, so I have to do it now. If I want the dream of playing in the NFL and my coach and my mom think the only way I can get there is with no distractions, then I have to. And there’s no better time than now.

So I’m waiting outside of Kamryn’s last class, and then I see her. Bundled up in a jacket and beanie. The wind blows her hair in front of her face before she pulls it behind her. I quickly whip out my phone and take a picture of her. Knowing that this will be the last time I see her beautiful face unbroken.

My heart is in my throat. My head and heart are warring with the outside world, demanding that I not do this. When she spots me, I see her falter. I see the trepidation, nervousness, and sadness in her beautiful brown eyes as she walks towards me. The glow that she so effortlessly radiates dims because of me. And I hate that I’ve put that look of doubt in her eyes. I hate that I’ve turned this vibrant girl into a shell of who she once was. Being the one to dim her light, that’s not me. That’s not who I’m supposed to be.

“Hi,” She nervously says when she stops in front of me. Almost so quiet that it comes out more as a whisper.

The only time I’ve heard the nervousness in her voice was when we ran into each other after our firstmeeting. How I wish I could go back in time to that moment. Where everything was new. Without the voices of my coach and mom telling me I need to end this.

“Hi,” I hold my hand out to her and give her a tentative smile, “come take a walk with me?”

Chewing on her lip, she reluctantly takes my hand and we walk towards a bridge not too far from campus. Kamryn told me that hand-holding was an underrated form of physical connection. Every time I got to hold her I locked all of those moments away. When we find a spot to stop on the bridge, she lets her hand fall from mine and turns to face me.

“Did I do something?” Her question comes out as a broken whisper and barely audible over the sound of the river flowing below us. It’s right here that I know that I’ve broken her.

This is going to be harder than I thought. “No, baby. It was nothing you did wrong. But there is something. And it has been tearing me up.”

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