He Who Holds the Magic

by Miyah Henderson 9 months ago in love

The Story That Has No True Ending

He Who Holds the Magic

What they didn’t tell you is that fairytales aren’t real—I apologize for introducing everyone to a harsh reality. There aren’t knights in shining armor, nor is there a fairy Godmother. There’s definitely not always a “and they lived happily ever after.” Ouch. I know. I will say there is magic that lies in certain situations. A kind of magic so unfathomable that not even a princess herself could possibly grasp it. A magic that has undoubtedly wedged its way into reality. I have experienced magic. He has experienced magic too. He who shall not be named. We hold the magic.

The year of being twenty is simply the year of questioning. You’ve just entered this harsh reality of no longer being a teenager which makes you feel more responsible for some reason, yet you have only stuck your big toe into the sea of what we call adulthood. Yeah, twenty. What they didn’t tell you is that heartbreak happens before you reach the age of twenty. I can definitely abide by this statement. I dated my best friend from high school for about a year and a half. He broke up with me because, “he was intimidated by the fact that I knew what I wanted for my life, and he had no idea.” Something along those lines. I mean, I guess that's a compliment? But in the moment, that sounded like a bullshit reason to breakup with your best friend. Then there was heartbreak blah, blah, blah. This new human being arose from within me after this so called devastation. I finally found myself after months of searching.

I knew that the new me was needed. So of course, I took it into my own hands to make everyone around me happy. Any logical person knows that is near to impossible. I like to think of myself as an optimist. One night, my dear friend was really going through it in the boy department. I took it as my job to basically make all of her worries disappear. I live on a strip of bars, so in reality, it is easy to accomplish this goal. We did just that. What I didn’t know was that in the midst of trying to change my friend’s life, I would also change mine.

I remember following behind my speed walking companion on the cobbled stoned street of Stone Street. Hence the name. My eyes were fixed to the floor making sure that indeed one foot was stepping in front of the other. As soon as I felt confident in my walking abilities, I looked up and saw him on the other side of the street.

My initial thoughts were, “my God, he’s beautiful.”

Naturally, I had to do something to grab his attention.

“I like your shirt,” were the mere words that rolled off the tip of my tongue without my brain getting any chance to contemplate whether or not that would be the appropriate way to grab this guy's attention.

It was probably the most spontaneous thing I’ve ever done, especially since he was wearing a dark teal, scoop neck t shirt. But it freaking worked.

He gave a sincere chuckle at my spontaneity, “This one?” he asked while stopping in front of me.

This is how it all began. We exchanged names and politely shook hands. He began to question on how my night was going, asking where I had come from, and where I was headed. I gave him the low down on Stone Street because he seemed to be a little clueless in this scene. That was that. I walked away from the conversation knowing I would probably never see him again. How unfortunate. Well, I was wrong. I walked into the bar next door after our encounter and within five minutes of talking to my friend, there he was looking for me.

The night turned into the most memorable night of my life. We talked in the bar for hours, to the point that I had no idea that my friend had already left. He ever so kindly offered to walk me home. Honestly, I contemplated it but something was telling me to “let it happen.” So I did. When we reached my door, he asked for my number to only realize his phone was dead. He stuck out his arm, gave me a pen and insisted that I make my mark right there on his skin. I was about it. With that, he kissed me goodnight and insisted that I see him another time. This is when I really thought I would never see him again. Just another nice guy at a bar. Of course, he beat the odds of every other stereotypical man in New York City. The following day I got a text from him simply letting me know that it was indeed him. It was followed by a phone call a few hours later. Who even calls anymore?! This lead to our first date, which was Mavis Staples concert at Lincoln Center. He really outdid himself with that one. This was followed by a second date a few days later to my favorite bookstore, our third date we kept simple and got ice cream, he met my friends, watched movies at my place, he started to stay the night, and he always made my bed the next morning. Was this what is was supposed to be like? What I haven’t mentioned, is that I knew his stay wasn't permanent. He would eventually have to return home to Australia. No specific date given, but it was coming.

I took in every moment. I made every hand hold, every cheesy joke, every goodnight kiss like it would be the last one I ever got. I spent twenty two days with someone who made every day my favorite. There was one point where I was overwhelmed by how perfect everything was. I broke down in tears while sitting on my couch, asking God why I deserved this "too good to be true" situation. I thought back to all the times that I was just never good enough for previous boys who came into my life. He made me feel like I was the absolutely flawless. Every time he looked at me, I felt beautiful. I don’t think I could have confidently declared such a statement aloud before these moments. The best thing about him is the fact that he was completely clueless to the fact that he was so miraculous. He had absolutely no idea that I thought he was beyond anything that I could possibly fathom for myself. I mean a 6'2, long brown haired, blue eyed, singer-songwriter, with an Australian accent... doesn't get much better than this folks. On September 3rd, I watched him leave my doorstep not knowing if I would ever see him again. Every two months I hear from him. I can proudly say that I count down the days. Trust me when I say, I have tried so hard to let go. But how do you let go of something that good? So many people have told me it is time to move on. My friends think I’m crazy. I think I’m an optimist who believes in magic.

There is something you must know about this kind of magic. Only those who are truly willing to see others are allowed to hold it. It’s so good it hurts. That warm feeling in your heart when the magic is upon you, hold on to it. Not every day will you be this lucky. You too will find your “he who shall not be named.” He has the magic. Hold on to him.

Miyah Henderson
Miyah Henderson
Read next: 'Chocolate Kisses'
Miyah Henderson

Just a college student trying to find a good creative outlet, you know? 

See all posts by Miyah Henderson