Life rarely presents second chances. The big decisions you make don’t sit in a temporary state to see how things unfold, ready to alter at will.
A situation presents itself, you make a decision and thus life unfolds, consequences at your feet. It’s seldom that, after a choice that changes so much, an opportunity arises. This summer, I was lucky.
Two summers ago, I was younger, more naïve and impressionable, so I threw myself into love after a rough beginning in 2010. I wanted happiness. Fast. But even with my trip to England that July, I felt lost. I spent the end of junior year of high school and start of summer invested in a classmate — a silly, joyful, kind-hearted boy who thought the world of me. For the six weeks before England, we were inseparable. I was happy for the first time in months. But I was still that young, naïve and impressionable girl.
England presented obstacles to us — the nine-hour time difference, shaky Internet and no cell phone made communication inconvenient. Somehow we managed. But in the last leg of my absence, problems arose. It’s never easy to reconcile an argument, but it’s exacerbated when you’re continents apart. Long story short, I made a mistake. When I returned home, we were no longer together. When school started again, he moved on, and I could only imagine his hatred for me.
The months of senior year came and went, as did the first year of college, and I was happy for his happiness. We hadn’t spoken in the same way — anything more than cordial conversations in passing — in nearly two years when I returned home this summer. Toward the end of July, I spent a lot of time with him at a beach day and bonfire with our mutual friends. That night, an old spark rekindled and a summer fling ignited. We discussed early on that it would end after the summer, that the distance and timing were wrong. Now that I’ve returned to Boston and he remains in San Diego, my heart is heavy and full. I knew that things wouldn’t be easy, that goodbyes would hurt, but I didn’t realize just how deeply I could feel again.
Yet while I shoulder this pain, I recognize the situation’s bitter sweetness. I had the opportunity, maybe not to right the wrongs, but to replace scarring impressions with happier memories. The month in which our lives intertwined again was beautiful — it made me feel alive.
I guess that’s all you can ask for when you’re a 19-year-old college sophomore. No one knows where the future leads, and while we all like to make plans, it’s full of surprises.
Yes, I realize how cliché it all is, but then I think about how they’re clichéd for a reason. Two years ago, I didn’t think I would ever be with him again. And then August happened.
Krissen Kawachi is a sophomore in the College of Arts and Sciences and a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. She can be reached at k.kawachi@gmail.com.
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