All We Have Are Choices

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
It had been a long time coming, but that didn't make that moment any easier.

Submitted: June 23, 2016

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Submitted: June 23, 2016

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Once upon a time, I needed to have a happy ending. Even though it will most likely only happen when I write it in my stories, but after the time I’ve been having… it would be nice. 
 
*** 
 
If this were a happy ending, when I saw that silver Pontiac cruising down my road, it would have been you. Coming to say that of course you knew that you wanted me. I was enough. 
 
But it wasn’t. 
 
If this was a happy ending, you would have texted me that you were outside my house, and we would have gone on one of our old starry night strolls- talking about everything and nothing. Where everything would come together and nothing would be bad. 
 
But you didn’t.
 
If it were a happy moment your friends would have given you the perfect advice and told you that they see how happy we are together, and how we are good for each other. They would make you see everything I had been saying, and you would come to see me the next day. 
 
But they won’t. 
 
If this were a happy ending, it would all be different. The universe would have given us a fucking break. We would have wanted the same things, not been fighting multiple problematic situations. We would be ready for everything there was in life together. 
 
But it didn’t. We don’t. And we aren’t. 
 
 
 
See thing is that… it doesn’t matter that we’ve loved each other the best we can. Doesn’t matter that we don’t want this to end. Because we want different things, and even though it’s still pretty early to say- odds are, this won’t all turn around and you won’t surprise me saying every magical word I desperately want you to. You won’t change who you are and what you want, and neither will I. 
 
I can’t imagine my life without you. You changed me into a better person and I want… I want you to be there with me for everything. I want you as my partner.
 
But it isn’t up to me anymore. It’s up to you, and as much as you protest or hate it… I sometimes know you better than you know yourself. I know what you really do want, and unless you have a life altering moment driving you into my arms happily and for good, I know you will leave me. 
 
After everything. After the best and worst moments of my life, the most important opposite role of me will be gone. 
 
So… I’m going to choke down wine, and whatever music eases the painful cramps in my heart, and describe the happy ending I am doubtful I will get. 
 
***
 
I would drive home after work tomorrow, and you would be there leaning against your car waiting for me to pull up. You’d be wearing that blue button down we had just bought together that fits you perfectly, and as I would exit my car, you would fix me with a long silent stare, your hands crammed in you pockets as you would walk silently up to me.
 
I would walk over to you, and you would offer me your hand. I’d take it, and we would walk around the darkened streets of my neighborhood, spotting the occasional rabbit and shine of fireflies. You would tell me that you were sitting having drinks with your friends, and you were listening to their stories and going through your day when you realize that everyone is moving on and up in their lives. How you never realized the half of your life I was, and how you want that to stay. That you want that to always be there.
 
At this point we would have arrived back at my house, and I would be fighting down a horrible combination of tears and excitement, because despite the heartwarming words, you haven’t mentioned your decision. 
You would walk me to my backyard, and would say that you understood. That you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and that when you truly realized what marrying me would mean, it wasn’t scary. Because it would just be you and I against the world, there for every moment with each other, and never have to be away from each other’s lives again. I’d be crying, and you would hug me. Kissing my forehead and cupping my head in that way that makes me feel like I’m finally in my happy niche. 
 
Then maybe one, two, three or so months later, you would propose. Happy, because I was what you wanted. I was who you wanted to go on all your adventures with, and that was what you wanted more than anything. 
 
We’d be at peace. Finally on the same page together, you realizing marriage didn’t mean you wouldn’t see your friends, and wanting to spend everyday with me. Sharing every possible moment together. 
 
We’d get married next October. You wearing a tweed vest with a button down and tie. We would have a magical small wedding and it would be cozy, warm, and small. Just us sharing the fullness of life with family and close friends.
 
*
 
So the odds are against me, I doubt this will happen… but at least I got my happy ending somewhere. 


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