15-05-2021-052358It-Ends-with-Us

He smiled and shook his head, then held out a fist. I lifted my hand and he
dropped something hard in the palm of my hand. It was a small, flat outline of
a heart, about two inches long, carved out of wood.
I rubbed my thumb over it, trying not to smile too big. It wasn’t an
anatomically correct heart, but it also didn’t look like the hand-drawn hearts.
It was uneven and hollow in the middle.
“You made this?” I asked, looking up at him.
He nodded. “I carved it with an old whittling knife I found at the house.”
The ends of the heart weren’t connected. They just curved in a little, leaving
a little space at the top of the heart. I didn’t even know what to say. I felt him
sit back down on the bed but I couldn’t stop looking at it long enough to even
thank him.
“I carved it out of a branch,” he said, whispering. “From the oak tree in
your backyard.”
I swear, Ellen. I never thought I could love something so much. Or maybe
what I was feeling wasn’t for the gift, but for him. I closed my fist around the
heart and then leaned over and kissed him so hard, he fell back onto the bed. I
threw my leg over him and straddled him and he grabbed my waist and
grinned against my mouth.
“I’m gonna carve you a damn house out of that oak tree if this is the reward
I get,” he whispered.
I laughed. “You have to stop being so perfect,” I told him. “You’re already
my favorite person but now you’re making it really unfair to all the other
humans because no one will ever be able to catch up to you.”
He brought his hand to the back of my head and rolled me until I was on
my back and he was the one on top. “Then my plan is working,” he said, right
before kissing me again.
I held on to the heart while we kissed, wanting to believe it was a gift for no
reason at all. But part of me was scared it was a gift to remember him by when
he leaves for Boston.
I didn’t want to remember him. If I had to remember him, it would mean he
wasn’t a part of my life anymore.
I don’t want him to move to Boston, Ellen. I know that’s selfish of me
because he can’t keep living in that house. I don’t know what I’m more afraid
might happen. Watching him leave or selfishly begging him not to go.
I know we need to talk about it. I’ll ask him about Boston tonight when he
comes over. I just didn’t want to ask him last night because it was a really