When You Look At Me
(A Piece on Heartbreak)
It’s wonderful stuff, you know? Little things like that. Yeah, but those are the things I miss the most. Those little idiosyncrasies that only I knew about. People call these things ‘imperfections’, but they’re not. That’s the good stuff. And then we get to choose who we let into our weird little worlds.
– Sean Maguire, from Good Will Hunting
Did you know that Iceland isn’t as icy as Greenland and the population is ½ the size of Boston? Sometimes I think about texting your mom to see how the farm is doing. Remember when I took you to Restoration Hardware, and we pranced around those three floors filled with furniture, sitting on every couch but it was too soon in our relationship to make any comments about the beds. I laugh thinking about the time I accidentally roped you into buying pizza for a homeless man that later told us he was allergic to tomatoes and that cash was a better option. How about the time you thought a good first date idea would be taking me to a bridge where we awkwardly looked at the water for five minutes trying to figure out what to do and I am pretty sure you held my hand. I blush as I recall that time on the quad where I shared with you that in my Brain, Mind, Behavior class we learned that “Alpha'' sperm send half their swimmers to guard the gates, and yeah, that was the first conversation we ever had.
Remember when I brought my grandma to your concert at Trinity Chapel, and we looked like such a gorgeous couple in that picture you dad took of us. We were perfect, except my dress was infected with static, ugh, I hate static! Or that time I accidentally shared my location with your whole entire family and while we were at it, you should know, I really did love Lola, I just gave her a hard time because I loved the way you got so protective of her. I think about how the first time we kissed, I won’t kiss and tell. I won’t kiss and tell. I told you I had never kissed someone with a mustache, and we had to stop making out because we were laughing too hard. And we kissed like fish and you had me drink that cod oil supplement that tasted awful, but I tried to find it for months in the grocery store after covid hit and you left America.
I love the way you used to tuck your blond hair behind your ears and brought me burritos when I was zoned in on my writing. Remember when we were high, and you tried to spoon feed me different desserts, but I was laughing too hard to pay attention to the chocolate mousse or that cannoli you insisted was the best ever. I have to tell you, a Cannoli from Italy is better, but I agree that being high on love does change things. I have never met anyone that could laugh as hard as you would during a comedy show, your whole body understood that joke. And every time I dance, I remember how you waited for me outside the bathroom in Juliet’s house to tell me that the most attractive I had ever been to you was watching me dance with Brennan. I didn’t expect to miss being called stinky, smelly, lil chicken, or chimp, I always thought I would be more into the traditional terms of endearment, Habibti, my love.
Remember when we went on a run “together” and I literally couldn’t find you the whole time, you were so far ahead? That was the day I realized you ran on your toes and had the most gorgeous, toned, arms. I miss those arms. I laugh thinking about how we used to sing in the car together, pretending to smoke, using Twizzlers as the cigarettes. While you used to fall asleep so easily and everywhere, and I mean everywhere. How about that time on Valentine’s Day when the fire department had to come because you put too much oil in the popcorn machine, and we joked all night that the firemen were all a part of your plan. You loved socks, remember the popcorn ones I got you, but you loved sneakers more. And I miss when you used to play the guitar and sing to me while that projector played in the background. I never paid attention to that projector, but you always wanted it on. You should know that during quarantine I tried to learn Icelandic, but it is the hardest language in the world to learn if you are not a native speaker and I still struggle with Spanish despite studying it for eight years. The word I would use to describe our first date: Improbable. The phrase I would use to describe our first date: Royal, Heavy Machinery. Remember when we would leave from my house in the morning to go to class and you insisted on taking your “shortcut” behind McMullen. Oh the things I would give now to have tried the long way with you.
Remember when I didn’t look both ways before crossing the street, I don’t, but you always remembered that. I still have that letter you wrote me, Message sent with Invisible Ink, and the pictures of us you printed out when you came to visit me, a picture from our first date that looks like it was taken on a potato. Bookmarks, Blueberries, Burritos, Pelone stamp cards, a few of my favorite things! All the bars in Boston close at 2am but we weren’t ready to leave eachother so you took me to my first Casino and my eyes got crossed looking at all the slot machines. And as we walked from Johnny’s to Jane’s you told me that my white dress with pink and green flowers was your favorite, while we lost track of time and I had a piece of duct tape on my foot. Waking up to the sun I remember that you couldn’t sleep without an eye mask and the only one in the house was made for a seven-year-old, had a unicorn horn on it, but you still wore it all night. I order sticky rice at every sushi restaurant now and I rate them all. What is good food without a rating, right? The bloody kicker: that time you surprised me at my off-campus house, but I hadn’t shaved my legs and I ran up stairs and told you I would be back super quick and then we spent the whole night bandaging up my shredded legs that I shaved just a wee bit too fast. I have the book you got me for my birthday on display in my New York apartment, Wake Up Alone and Like It. And sometimes I read that handwritten letter you gave me for the same occasion. The one you wrote for me with your beautiful penmanship that so eloquently told me that you thought I dressed like someone from Harry Potter. Yes, I am known to dress like the Dementor in certain circles, but to bed, I still wear that blue, orange, and purple tank top that we tie dyed together at Juju’s studio.
I don’t really understand how people stop loving their exes. I don’t get how I could have loved you this much and then just because you broke my heart, moved on, or needed something different, how all the sudden that love could possibly just vanish. It couldn’t. It can’t. There is no way I would wish this love I still hold for you away. I have dated flawed men, and they have dated flawed me. But you always loved to quote movies, and Good Will Hunting was one of your favorites, right?
It’s wonderful stuff, you know? Little things like that. Yeah, but those are the things I miss the most. Those little idiosyncrasies that only I knew about. People call these things ‘imperfections’, but they’re not. That’s the good stuff. And then we get to choose who we let into our weird little worlds. – Sean Maguire, from Good Will Hunting
I would go back and choose to let you into my weird little world a hundred times over. I sit here crying, gluing my broken heart back together with these words, smiling and laughing as I think of you, as I remember us. God, I feel so lucky. I am so grateful I got to love you, so heartbroken I had to lose you, and so desperately trying to trust that you will always be in my life in some form or another. “When you look at someone, you don’t just see them, you’re seeing every person who’s had an impact on them.” Or as our favorite, JM puts it: You’re Gonna Live Forever in Me.
Even though you broke my heart, I still love reading you writing from Nadler’s class, and listening to the instrumental versions of songs you used to send me. I still root for the Heat because I have never known anyone who loves a team more. And if I ever find that cod oil in the grocery store, I’ll be sure to buy it.
Love Always,
Casey McNamara
