I spent hours searching online for the best Christmas present I could find. I take great pride in the fact that I normally give pretty sweet gifts and I didn’t want this to be the exception. We had known each other for almost 2.5 years so the ideas were plentiful but nothing seemed special enough. Finally, I came up with something…a gift that would make him the happiest guy on the planet.
Two tickets to see the Chicago Bulls and a weekend away with yours truly. I scoured the internet for tickets that would fall on a weekend where I didn’t have to study and then scoured some more for something that fell on an intern’s budget.
Finally I had them. The tickets weren’t for a game until April 1st but heck I was lucky to find them and it would give us something to look forward to, right?
I never got to give him the tickets.
And he never knew I spent hours searching for something so perfect.
Or what I had to do to justify paying for them.
Instead of being wrapped up and carefully opened on Christmas, those tickets sat in my desk drawer in the ugly envelope they came in. And then they stayed there for 6 weeks more.
In mid February I decided it was time to pack up a few memories and begin the trek towards moving on. I grabbed notes out of old backpacks and took pictures off of billboards and put them in the memory box stashed high on the top shelf of my bookcase. And then I opened my desk drawer and wondered what I was ever going to do with two tickets to a Bulls game 300 miles away.
It didn’t take long to realize they were worthless sitting in a desk drawer but in my broken heart I saw them as something else; a chance to see Jay. I fumbled around with the envelope for a few minutes and contemplated calling Jay right then to see if maybe he’d be up for a roadtrip…as friends. I must have been having a pretty strong willed day because I ended up deciding against it and instead put them on ebay. Nevermind the fact that I priced them for just a little bit higher than what I knew someone would actually pay for them, secretly hoping they wouldn’t sell.
Jay called about one week after I put the tickets for sale just to say hi. In a small bit of silence between us I fumbled over my words and blurted out that I had tickets. For him. I could hear his heart break over the phone and he apologized a million times over that I still had them. He suggested we could go, but I surprised myself and told him I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, so we left it at that, and I assumed we’d talk about it later.
In early March I decided it was time to move on for real and get rid of the two things holding me back, so I logged on to ebay and dropped the ticket price substantially. Within a day the tickets sold and just like that my heartbroken dream of seeing Jay vanished. I let out a small gasp when I got the email that my tickets had sold but decided it really was for the best and didn’t let myself think about it for much longer. The tickets were sold, there was no going back. Time to move on.
Which brings me to today. Ten Days before April 1st. With my heart and mind barely on the same page. I don’t know why all of a sudden I’m thinking of April 1st, but I am.
I think it would be fun to see Jay again.
He doesn’t know the tickets are sold.
I wonder if he’s thought about those tickets at all. I wonder if he was secretly counting on one more weekend together too. After all, we never did get our goodbye.
Most days our break-up never even phases me. I don’t miss our late night talks or flip through old photos of us, I just don’t have any interest. But for some reason I can’t get these damn tickets out of my head. I’m holding on to that one last bit of hope for us even though I know deep down that there is none left.
I hate that I bought those stupid tickets. And I hate that they were for April, so far away.
I’m ready for this one last bit of hope to fade.