I rushed down the street to our apartment, butterflies thrumming in my stomach. Pictures of our new home's skyline would finally hold meaning, her laughter would reverberate off the walls of a quaint cafe in the neighbourhood. We were experiencing a quiet low in our relationship, silent dinners, hushed nights but I was positive this could fix it all; after all, this is my ultimatum, the most earnest form of love :  passion and unparalleled empathy.

The jingle of my keys mellowed as I found her, poised seated upon the sofa, her gaze lingered on the boy who believed movement could substitute certainty. 

"Did you quit your job Caleb?" were the words she methodically released as I made my way over to the couch.

I replied, "Yes, and oh my god Paige my body can't even contain my excitement, as you may have already caught on. I already have our dream life planned out ahead of us! Our apartm–"

"Our dream life?" she exclaimed, except in a terrifyingly calm cadence. "It was never ours to share, It was mine; always has been and always will be...""

Tension hung low and proud in the air as the excitement I felt in my stomach morphed into a vast pit. The cracks in the ground deepened, the soil parched for love and nurturing.

"Do you not register the consequences of your actions? You always act according to your own whim and honestly, you've taken it too far this time. You seem to have no regard for the concept of stability and you know spontaneity is the dirtiest of sins in my eyes."

I still don't recollect whether it was irritation at the truth behind her words or the calmness with which she effortlessly stripped the romance out of my intention that propelled me to admit.

"Paige, is it really a goddamn "sin" to make a key decision in the spur-of-the-moment if you know that it feels and is right? I don't act on a whim for Christ' sake, I am actually certain of what I want, when I want it, unlike you, who feels the irresistible itch to micromanage and have your life practically set out on a spreadsheet. Also sorry for caring and wanting you enough to risk something real."

"And that is exactly my point. You may be able to uproot your whole life over the idea of love but I cannot; a stable life is important for me and..." 

a heavy pause lingered in the air as the remorseless words slipped out, "I cannot be with someone who does not feel the same way."

An eerie stillness overwhelmed the house; nothing and everything had changed. Amongst the silence, the chasm let into itself; it grew, stranding me at the bottom. She never met me halfway and then I realized, never will.

It was like the flip of a switch; I understood that somewhere between reason and restraint, she lost her heart. Her voice was terrifyingly steady, her countenance unreadable : the kind of calm that only arose when you have decided you are done feeling. 

Apathetically, as she probably preferred, I asked to stay for 6 months until I found a new job, until she left for her dream : a dream I was never part of.

She obliged, unfazed as ever.

Five months flew by. I had given countless interviews by then and was sure of scoring a few offers under my belt; Paige and I barely shared a few glances, let alone some time in the same room. Her actions often exuded a sense of pity toward me, infantilizing my being and essentially labelling my decision, to quit my job in the name of pure love, as "stupid" and "childish". She kept a blanket every night, coffee ready, before leaving for work. Her patronizing acts still permeated my life, maintaining her control over me and I resented every second of it. Finding a better partner was harder than expected; regardless of the way things brutally ended between us, the fleeting instances of her jovial chuckles and the twinkling of her hazel eyes in pure exhilaration used to flash by my mind often. She made it easier to let go of those memories though, growing distant by the day, convincing me that maybe I held no place in her heart for the past 4 years if it were that easy for her to act as though we never existed.

"I probably won't be home tonight so you can call your girlfriend over if you'd like" echoed through the silence, her eyes flitting away in firm refusal to engage in any sort of communication. Despite her vainful attempts to stop me from noticing, she looked different. Dark shadows faintly shaded her under eyes, her face slightly puffy; her shirt for once was not ironed to crisp, instead loosely crumpling at her shoulders. The little sympathy that struck a chord in me was quickly washed over by my stubborn pride, insisting she was fine and reading too much into harmless fatigue. Of course tying up loose ends at work was bound to be stressful, especially now that she is so close to living her dream.

As the door slammed shut, my thoughts were conveniently interrupted by a ping on my phone : I had just secured my first job offer at the company of my first choice! The first person I wanted to share my joy with, and who I was confident in reciprocating the happiness was my new girlfriend; I arranged a dinner reservation for the two of us later that evening, elated at the soaring prospects for the future, disappointed it could never be with the person I gave my all to and for.

Clad in a surprisingly crisp navy button-up, paired with beige trousers, my phone blared from the living room as the spritz of cologne touched my neck.

"Caleb, please tell me Paige is back home right now", Ben's voice frantically questioned.

"What are you saying? I thought she had a meeting out of town or something for the day?"

"No, she didn't have anything scheduled on her calendar. You have to find her; her and John broke out into this massive argument and even she slammed his vase, enraged!"

"Don't worry I'll find her." were the last words I spoke until I immediately my girlfriend of the circumstance and drove to where I would hopefully find her, her spot : the pier.

I began walking down the boardwalk as I finally observed her at the edge, feet dangling over the water, waves dancing in the sunlight of dusk. I found my place beside her, allowing the serene silence to wash away any worries.

"I'm not taking the new job." she curtly confessed, her gaze fixated on the slow waves of the lake. I listened, pushing aside the cold, clouded judgments 

"You know, I never really gave two shits about caring for myself or for that matter anyone..." her eyes knowingly glancing towards me in admittance. "And after our breakup, I've really been thinking and noticing the cracks in the lifestyle I've been leading. I cannot let myself take the new job unless I find myself deserving of it and I know it may seem like a messed up ideology but taking some time to reflect on my life and goal is something I think I really need right now."

Her eyes, glistening with tears welling up, finally met mine as she sorrowfully acknowledged, "It's just a shame that I had to lose you to find me. This leap I'm about to take is intimidating, but I'm sure it is for the best." 

As I finally peered into her gaze, her truth at last known to me, an epiphany struck. I realized she was never the villain, and I had never truly been empathetic. My reckless passion had never matched her deliberate courage. As she chose herself, I mourned what I had imagined I lost, and what I could never have, learning at last that love waits for us to be ready, ready to meet each other and not be met halfway. The waves lapped beneath our bare feet, witnessing the lessons we quietly carried.