I had wanted to make it work with him, however that looked and whatever it entailed. Long-distance love, and sending each other a million texts, and calling every night so we could fall asleep on the phone to the sound of each other’s snores. Emails that were love notes on purpose, eagerly sent, not mistakenly. Flying to New York and being lost in a strange land, out of place and out of time, but who cared, because Noël was there. I’d wanted the chance at that future with him.
