I Don't Know If I Know What Love Is but I Know I Can't Live Without You

Setting: Winter time in Chicago around 8 PM.

It was me, Patrick, his mother, Deena, and my mother, Lisa. We all were gathered around the firepit outside Patrick’s house down by the town middle school. The beginning hours were filled with pleasant conversation, memory recollection, and nostalgia while enjoying the home cooked meal Patrick and Deena had prepared for the evening. After dinner, we all were sitting outside on the patio, still, staring at the sky. this night, unlike others, was full of bright stars. It was a chilly night but no one seemed to care so long as they were huddled close enough to the brightly burning fire. Lisa and Deena were chatting amongst themselves when they finally fired a look at Patrick and me, batted their eyes and asked us to drive them to the world market. Patrick asked why they needed to go there and they answered: "for some Chardonnay, of course!"

We agree to drive them. Patrick and I are waiting in the parked car as two middle-aged women begin to rush out of the world market with each of their arms full of bottles of Chardonnay. They bring them to the car and before they even get in Deena exclaims “There’s this great spot we can all go to sit and drink over by the water, let’s park the car downtown and walk over there." Knowing these are our mothers, there is little to no success in the efforts to say no and deny them of their scenic drinking spot, so we go. We park the car around the corner of the place I worked when I was in high school, 'Noodles & Company' and with one of the bottles of the of Rosè in hand, we start walking towards the beach. Lisa and Deena get sidetracked by the 24/7 Custer store across the street and tell us they’ll meet us there as they run inside. After exchanging confused glances, Patrick and I continue walking. After a few minutes of walking, Patrick stops, eyes wide. He realizes he had left something important in the car, his jacket, a book maybe? I am not positive, for he did not tell me. He encourages me to continue walking and that he will meet me there, so, I keep walking.

I finally get to the beach and search until I find the biggest, smoothest rocks for us all to sit on and sit. About thirty minutes pass when I start to get concerned. Neither Patrick or our moms are here yet. I call my mom's phone, no answer. I call Patrick, he says very vaguely that he had to take our moms to the house cause his mom left something there and to meet him back at the parking spot. I start heading back to where the car was parked when from the distance I see that the car doors are all open, the car alarm is going off but no one is around. I hear a few cop cars in the distance getting closer when I realize that I still have that bottle of Chardonnay in my hand and more in the car. In a panic, I get in the car, grab the other bottles of Chardonnay and put them in my backpack, shut the car doors, and started walking in the direction of Patrick's house. At this point, I still haven’t heard back from Patrick, Deena, or my mother. When I get to the house, I see all the lights are off and the doors are locked. No one is answering their phones and it’s freezing outside and I am losing patience by the minute. A moment later, I remember a way I used to get into the house back when Patrick and I were in high school: his bedroom window.

I walk to the right side of the house, duck down and quietly push the window up, and crawl in. I check my phone and the clock reads midnight, still no word from anyone. All of a sudden, I hear distant, muffled chatter above me and footsteps slowly approaching. I can't quite make out the voice until I hear Deena's laugh pierce through the floorboards. In an effort for her not to know I snuck in, I quickly closed the window back up and raced into Patrick's bed under mounds of covers and pillows to try and disguise my body. I could hear Deena walking down the stairs and walk into the bedroom, she seems to be alone. As she sat on the bedside chair, she let out a dejected sigh as she gets up and moves to sit on the bed. I adjust very heavily to the bed and pretend that I am sleeping. I roll over and pretend to be just waking up and see her. She’s gasps, I gasp. I try to explain that I didn’t know where anyone was so I just came back here when Patrick said they were going back home and then I just fell asleep (which, of course, was a total lie). She just replied with an “Oh.”

After a few moments of exchanged silence, I asked “So where is my mom? You guys were having such a fun time together that she must have forgotten that she left her Rosè and her fur jacket in my car."

To this Deena replied, “Things didn’t work out with your mom so I had Patrick bring her home.”

“What do you mean...? You guys were having a good time.”

She answered “We just didn’t agree on something and I thought it would be best if she didn’t stay here. And come to think of it, I don’t think it would be a great idea for you to be here when Patrick gets back. I think that it would be best if you went home also." She said this in the stern, calm, and terrifying way that Patrick always used to talk about. I held back my tears with whatever ounce of strength I had at that moment. The mother of the love of my life telling me she didn’t even want me to be around, but for how long? And why? Over a dispute that she had with my mom? I couldn’t take it, so I just sat there in shock and nodded my head. She got up and left without another word and I continued to sit there for another minute or two before I heard Floyd (Patrick's pick up truck) pull up in front of the house.

That rush of panic that had been coming and going all night came back again when I heard him come through the door. Almost immediately I heard yelling and in fear of what his mother had said, I sprung up and started for the window when I started hearing his loud crashing and fast pacing feet coming down the stairs. He yelled after me but at this point, I was already outside the window. To this, he ran back upstairs and tried to intercept me outside before I got to my car but I got in the driver's seat almost as soon as he got to the driver's side door. His hands on the glass with anxiety written all over the lines in his face, tears running down mine. All my fears of not being good enough for him and the fear of me ruining his life came flooding to my mind and I lost my sense of control, just sitting there, hands on the wheel, balling. Hands still on the glass, he started crying too, begging me to open the door and to talk to him. Telling me his mom was wrong and that she shouldn’t have told me to leave, that he loved me. But I couldn’t hear him over the ringing in my ears. He fell to his knees, hands never breaking contact from the cold glass. His ears and cheeks were burning red from the piercing cold wind, his eyes closed. I unlock the door. He opened the door and sunk into my lap, hands wrapped around my waist, ear pressed against my chest. I can feel his heart racing and I know he could feel mine too. I ruffle his hair as the sobbing subsides. He looks at me with his big brown eyes and says “There is nothing and no one on this planet that will ever take you away from me except your own desire to leave, and even then I’ll fight for you until you ask me not to."