Same Time Next Summer

by Annabel Monaghan

Putting a person back together isn’t easy, but if you’re smart about it you can reassemble yourself in a totally different, better way.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that it’s totally possible to love someone from a safe distance.

But there’s no reason to walk into the museum of your childhood just for old times’ sake. It’s confusing to be faced with all the things you used to think were important once you’ve grown up. If I were my parents, I would have changed this room into a gym.

“If you’ve loved someone your whole life, it kind of makes sense that you’d love them forever.”

Which I guess is why it was such a relief when I met Jack. I love Jack, but I don’t need to be touching him all the time. There isn’t this feeling of holding on so tightly because I might fall into the abyss if I let go. There has never been a moment where I felt like he was a part of me; he is just right next to me, a partner. Love like this is so much more manageable, so much less terrifying.

you don’t want to start a marriage with any doubts.” “Did you?” “No, not a single one. From our third date, I thought I’d die if I didn’t marry your dad.”

Raoul brings us chocolate cake with vanilla frosting, layered with chocolate chip buttercream frosting. I must have made a sound when I tasted it. “She likes this one,” says Wyatt. “You don’t know that,” I say. “I know your sounds, Sam. She’ll take this one.” “You can’t have a chocolate cake for a wedding, right?” I ask Raoul, taking a third bite. “You can do whatever you want, but no, traditionally it’s white cake. The fun thing about this one is the white frosting looks traditional, and no one knows it’s chocolate until it’s cut.” “Let’s go back to the first two,” I say. “Sam, if you want a chocolate cake, get one. People love chocolate cake, it’s something no one can argue with.” “Jack won’t like it,” I say, and mop up the last chocolate crumbs with my finger. “You should have what you want.” He’s not joking around anymore. “I’ll take the first one,” I say.

“I’m tired,” I say. “Let’s skip the linens and take naps.” “You’re probably just going to pick white anyway,” Wyatt says.

I check my phone, and Jack’s sent a photo from the US Open. I reply: Looks fun! I just had a long nap. Jack: How was the cake? Me: Delicious Jack: What flavor did you choose? Me: Vanilla Jack: What about the linens? Me: I haven’t decided, I sort of liked the yellow Jack: What were the other choices? Me: All the colors, I’m going back tomorrow Jack: Really, yellow? Me: Probably white

“You cheat because you think it’s going to make you someone else, that it’s going to save you from your own damn misery. And that’s the lie you’re telling yourself. I guess that’s the point, Sam. Another person is not going to turn you into anything but who you already are. Make sure you’re not trying to turn yourself into someone else for Jack.”

“You know what it is, Sam? I hate your cake. Your cake sucks.” I smile because this must be a joke. “My cake sucks?” It’s no joke. “Yes, it’s boring and you don’t like it that much. But you’re going to choose it because you think it’s the right cake for this life you’ve buried yourself in. And Jack just lets you disappear, maybe because he doesn’t care or maybe because he doesn’t even know who you are. If it were me—and it was me, so I know—I’d want you to be everything you could be. I wouldn’t be putting rules and constraints around you, I’d just love you and let you move through the world the way you wanted to. You’ve just given up, Sam. You’re hiding, and it’s pathetic.”

“You’re the cake that looks normal until people dig in and find out it’s spectacular. You’re the chocolate fucking cake, Sam, and you won’t even choose it.”

“You’re the most important person that’s ever been in my life, and you’re not even the most important person in your own.”

“Sometimes you have to walk away from all the things you don’t want to make room for the future. Blank canvas.”

I want to rush over and climb up that ladder, but I stop myself for a second just to look. She’s drawing, and she’s completely in her head. Her hair is a mess, like she went for a long swim this morning and just let it dry in the sun. That’s the rest of my life, right there.

“I’m done writing songs about how much I loved you when we were kids. Missy can have those songs. My new album is about how I feel now. And when I’m done, I’m going to write another one about how a year’s gone by and I’m even more in love with you.”

I love you, Sam. I’ve loved you my whole life. There’s no risk.”