First Holland Holiday (6)
So here it was, my last full day with Marco. Sad isn't the word to describe how I was feeling. I know it's hard to believe, but every
single minute that we were together (after that first hour and a half of pure silence) was so enjoyable. Even if we were just sitting
there doing absolutely nothing, I loved just being with him. And even though I would never admit it at the time, I even enjoyed the
time when I was mad at him on the boat because I knew that eventually we would end up back together.
We were both kind of quiet all morning and so while he was online, I started packing my things. He asked me not to do it now,
just to wait until later. But I really needed to do it now, because if I waited any longer, it would only make it harder. So I got all of
my things organized and packed away, then just sat by him for a long time as he played in chat. He kept pushing the keyboard to me
and telling me to talk to some people, but I really didn't want to. I was more content just sitting next to him, watching him, so that I
could etch this memory in my head, never to be forgotten.
I knew that this would all soon be over, and we would never see each other again. I was definitely torn between being happy that
at least I would have the memories, and the fact that the memories would be the very thing that made me sad when we were apart.
But, it was my choice to come, and my choice that we made that pact, so it would be something I would have to live with and accept.
Marco wanted to go out for a nice dinner on our last night together. He decided on a restaurant down on the Pier by the ocean.
When we arrived near the restaurant there was no parking for blocks and blocks. So he drove down to the pier itself and we found a
spot there. We walked along looking at the different places as we headed towards the restaurant. It wasn't nearly as busy or
crowded as it would have been if it were summer. He had worked there when he was a teenager, and told me all about the crowds
and parties there during nice weather. There were different restaurants, game rooms, drinking bars, dancing bars, just an
assortment of everything right above the beach. It looked like a pretty fun place.
As we were walking, we saw a Mexican restaurant, the first one I had seen this whole trip. I mentioned that I missed Mexican
food, and Marco told me that he had never had it. Wowzer, that shocked me. With all the funky stuff that he liked to eat, I couldn't
believe he had never had a taco! So we decided to go in there instead of the original one he chose. It was a nice place, kind of like
a Casa Gallardo or Hacienda. This was fun, because for the first time since we met, it was Marco asking me what things were,
instead of the other way around. I knew basically the kind of foods that he liked and suggested he get the fajita platter that had meat
(his number one food choice) and all the grilled stuff that he could mix together. I just hoped that I picked something that wouldn't
turn him off of Mexican food forever, because I love it! Dinner was wonderful. We drank and talked, mostly of everything we had
done while I was with him and how much we would miss it. I got sad a few times, but no tears. Oh yeah, he enjoyed his fajitas. Yay,
I did good. hahaha
Afterwards we took our time walking along the pier to get back to the car. Everything was so pretty all lit up. I love the ocean,
not getting in it, but looking at it. Marco had walked up further already, and was taking pictures of the lights out over the ocean, so
I just stood and looked out over the water while he was gone. I didn't want to leave. I just wanted to stay here forever.
When we got home, we topped off our evening by having ice cream and finishing off a bottle of apple schnapps that Marco had
put in the freezer before we left. That stuff is good! hahaha I tried so hard to stay awake, I didn't want to go to sleep at all and
waste the little time we had left. But, after drinking an entire bottle of liquor, it's kind of impossible to stay awake. =P~
My last morning there sucked. Not because of anything that happened, but because it was my last morning there. I barely talked
at all. I knew if I did, I'd just start crying. So I just got up, took my shower, got all my stuff together, and waited for the taxi to come
to take us to the train station. Marco was being quiet too, and every time I looked at him, he would just look back and then smile,
never saying anything.
The train ride to the airport took about 45 minutes. I think we maybe spoke 10 words the entire time. This was different than the
silence when we first met though. A lot different. This time I just couldn't speak. It didn't matter if I wanted to or not, the fact is, I
couldn't. Anything I said would have caused me to break out in tears. It was over and there was nothing I could do about it. I just
wanted to get through this as fast as I could.
Once I got my luggage checked in at the airport we still had about an hour until I had to be at the gate. We decided to go sit in
the restaurant and get some coffee. Well, for as good as I had done all damn morning, I was about to blow it. All it took was Marco
saying, "I had a very nice time and I will miss you when you go Dawn." That's it, I couldn't keep the tears in anymore. We spent the
next hour sitting there as I cried and he tried to make me feel better. Needless to say, it wasn't working. How could I feel better? We
were never gonna see each other again. Some sick twist of fate had us both living halfway across the world from each other. There
was no way in hell we would ever be together again. Marco kept telling me that we would. That somehow we would see each other
again. He promised. Yet as much as I wanted to believe him, I knew we wouldn't. I knew we were just dreaming if we believed that,
and I've never been the type of person to live in a dreamworld. I'll take cold hard reality slapping me in the face anyday over a life
of being disappointed by dreams never coming true. So there I sat, not able to stop crying.
It was time, I had to go to the gate. It was so hard that I almost said FukkIt, I'm not going. I don't care about anything at home,
I'm just gonna stay here and never leave. But I knew I couldn't. I had too many responsibilities at home that I couldn't leave for my
family to deal with. When we got to the line I didn't want to get in it. I knew as soon as I did, I would have to say good-bye. So for a
few minutes I just stood there, not moving. Finally I had to go. We hugged for a long time, said our good-byes, he kissed me one
last time, and I walked to the line. He ended up coming up next to the line and standing next to me, on the other side of the rope,
holding my hand as I waited. Now it was my turn, I looked at him once more, let go of his hand, went to the counter, went through,
and didn't look back.
That was it. I was headed for home. Time for forget my feelings, forget what we had shared, and go on with everyday life as if
nothing had ever happened. Our fairytale was now over. Continue
single minute that we were together (after that first hour and a half of pure silence) was so enjoyable. Even if we were just sitting
there doing absolutely nothing, I loved just being with him. And even though I would never admit it at the time, I even enjoyed the
time when I was mad at him on the boat because I knew that eventually we would end up back together.
We were both kind of quiet all morning and so while he was online, I started packing my things. He asked me not to do it now,
just to wait until later. But I really needed to do it now, because if I waited any longer, it would only make it harder. So I got all of
my things organized and packed away, then just sat by him for a long time as he played in chat. He kept pushing the keyboard to me
and telling me to talk to some people, but I really didn't want to. I was more content just sitting next to him, watching him, so that I
could etch this memory in my head, never to be forgotten.
I knew that this would all soon be over, and we would never see each other again. I was definitely torn between being happy that
at least I would have the memories, and the fact that the memories would be the very thing that made me sad when we were apart.
But, it was my choice to come, and my choice that we made that pact, so it would be something I would have to live with and accept.
Marco wanted to go out for a nice dinner on our last night together. He decided on a restaurant down on the Pier by the ocean.
When we arrived near the restaurant there was no parking for blocks and blocks. So he drove down to the pier itself and we found a
spot there. We walked along looking at the different places as we headed towards the restaurant. It wasn't nearly as busy or
crowded as it would have been if it were summer. He had worked there when he was a teenager, and told me all about the crowds
and parties there during nice weather. There were different restaurants, game rooms, drinking bars, dancing bars, just an
assortment of everything right above the beach. It looked like a pretty fun place.
As we were walking, we saw a Mexican restaurant, the first one I had seen this whole trip. I mentioned that I missed Mexican
food, and Marco told me that he had never had it. Wowzer, that shocked me. With all the funky stuff that he liked to eat, I couldn't
believe he had never had a taco! So we decided to go in there instead of the original one he chose. It was a nice place, kind of like
a Casa Gallardo or Hacienda. This was fun, because for the first time since we met, it was Marco asking me what things were,
instead of the other way around. I knew basically the kind of foods that he liked and suggested he get the fajita platter that had meat
(his number one food choice) and all the grilled stuff that he could mix together. I just hoped that I picked something that wouldn't
turn him off of Mexican food forever, because I love it! Dinner was wonderful. We drank and talked, mostly of everything we had
done while I was with him and how much we would miss it. I got sad a few times, but no tears. Oh yeah, he enjoyed his fajitas. Yay,
I did good. hahaha
Afterwards we took our time walking along the pier to get back to the car. Everything was so pretty all lit up. I love the ocean,
not getting in it, but looking at it. Marco had walked up further already, and was taking pictures of the lights out over the ocean, so
I just stood and looked out over the water while he was gone. I didn't want to leave. I just wanted to stay here forever.
When we got home, we topped off our evening by having ice cream and finishing off a bottle of apple schnapps that Marco had
put in the freezer before we left. That stuff is good! hahaha I tried so hard to stay awake, I didn't want to go to sleep at all and
waste the little time we had left. But, after drinking an entire bottle of liquor, it's kind of impossible to stay awake. =P~
My last morning there sucked. Not because of anything that happened, but because it was my last morning there. I barely talked
at all. I knew if I did, I'd just start crying. So I just got up, took my shower, got all my stuff together, and waited for the taxi to come
to take us to the train station. Marco was being quiet too, and every time I looked at him, he would just look back and then smile,
never saying anything.
The train ride to the airport took about 45 minutes. I think we maybe spoke 10 words the entire time. This was different than the
silence when we first met though. A lot different. This time I just couldn't speak. It didn't matter if I wanted to or not, the fact is, I
couldn't. Anything I said would have caused me to break out in tears. It was over and there was nothing I could do about it. I just
wanted to get through this as fast as I could.
Once I got my luggage checked in at the airport we still had about an hour until I had to be at the gate. We decided to go sit in
the restaurant and get some coffee. Well, for as good as I had done all damn morning, I was about to blow it. All it took was Marco
saying, "I had a very nice time and I will miss you when you go Dawn." That's it, I couldn't keep the tears in anymore. We spent the
next hour sitting there as I cried and he tried to make me feel better. Needless to say, it wasn't working. How could I feel better? We
were never gonna see each other again. Some sick twist of fate had us both living halfway across the world from each other. There
was no way in hell we would ever be together again. Marco kept telling me that we would. That somehow we would see each other
again. He promised. Yet as much as I wanted to believe him, I knew we wouldn't. I knew we were just dreaming if we believed that,
and I've never been the type of person to live in a dreamworld. I'll take cold hard reality slapping me in the face anyday over a life
of being disappointed by dreams never coming true. So there I sat, not able to stop crying.
It was time, I had to go to the gate. It was so hard that I almost said FukkIt, I'm not going. I don't care about anything at home,
I'm just gonna stay here and never leave. But I knew I couldn't. I had too many responsibilities at home that I couldn't leave for my
family to deal with. When we got to the line I didn't want to get in it. I knew as soon as I did, I would have to say good-bye. So for a
few minutes I just stood there, not moving. Finally I had to go. We hugged for a long time, said our good-byes, he kissed me one
last time, and I walked to the line. He ended up coming up next to the line and standing next to me, on the other side of the rope,
holding my hand as I waited. Now it was my turn, I looked at him once more, let go of his hand, went to the counter, went through,
and didn't look back.
That was it. I was headed for home. Time for forget my feelings, forget what we had shared, and go on with everyday life as if
nothing had ever happened. Our fairytale was now over. Continue
