Dear Aaron

by Mariana Zapata

There aren’t that many people on Facebook, so you aren’t missing out on anything.

You’ve even made me cry before. I just didn’t tell you.

RubyMars: Okay AHall80: Ur like my little sister RubyMars: Okay

“You could’ve told me your mom and sister are the ugly ones in the family.”

“I’m really damn happy to see you, Ruby.” His voice was quiet, not hesitant but more cautious. “I look at you and I can’t stop smiling. That’s all. You’re adorable.”

Looking back on it, it’s weird thinking about the moments you don’t realize are important. The sentences, the touches, the actions that seem so innocent in that second, you take them for granted. The words that make water into wine in the course of your life. But I would never forget the way his words made me feel. The way he made me feel right then.

“I think I want to wake up every day and watch this,” I whispered to him, pulling my knees into my chest so I could settle my chin on top of them. “It would be worth waking up early for.” And all Aaron said, in his low, soft-spoken voice that he’d been using on me since yesterday, with something in the notes I couldn’t classify that sounded almost like hope, if hope had a sound and if a promise could be made without vocalizing it, was, “Any morning you want, Rube. I’ll watch it with you.”

“But I swear, if we become a shark attack statistic, and it bites me in the face, and the surgeon can’t repair the damage, you’re marrying me so you can look at my face the rest of your life and remember it was your fault.”

“I was a goner from the first time you gave me hell.” Aaron smiled. “Maybe even before then.”

“You are so goddamn special, Ruby. I’ll tell you every day if I have to.”

“You’re not crazy. You’re the best, and you deserve better than me, but I hope you don’t care.”