SO.

I FINALLY CALLED ERIC BACK. And indeed, it was the best love story I've heard in the longest time -- well, since Mrs. Ramos's ;D.

I've heard some epic love stories from my sisters, but for SOME REASON, this seems to trump all that I've ever heard! Maybe it's because these are two people that though I may not be personally talk-to-on-a-daily-basis close to, I still love. Maybe it's all the innocence and goodness I see in them. They make me smile and remind me of what's good in life sometimes.

Or maybe it's the fact that this isn't a story made of teeny tiny little girlish details that are actually blown out of proportion, since this story was told to me by the GUY for once, and doesn't need to be filled with those outrageous teeny tiny little girlish details; it's so amazing it can suffice on its own. :]

And so he basically gave me the recap on the three days Mary spent in South Jersey. And I really want to write about it here because this is something worth keeping for myself for later. You know, in case this feeling of ultimate contentment goes away somehow and envy creeps up to my door someday.

Mary stayed in South Jersey from Thursday to Saturday, since Friday was the WCC OI 2009 OCEAN CITY REUNION. That's RIGHT. It was a great night! But I'm not here to talk about what IIIII witnessed. I'm here to re-tell the story Eric told me :].

I remember Mary telling me something absolutely outrageous, about how she had to take some train or bus to Boston, and then some train or bus from Boston to NYC, and then some train or bus from NYC to South Jersey. lmfaoooo. She also said something about thriving on only three hours of sleep, and that explains why most of Eric's story was about them sleeping, hehe.

- - - - - - - - - - -

On Thursday, she stepped off the train and onto the platform. That same day, he got pulled over while driving because he was speeding at crazy speeds to that same platform, to her. Miles per hour to match his mood indeed. Luckily, his mom in the passenger's seat convinced the officer to give him just a warning.

He arrived at the train station, and he and his mom scoured the train to catch the first glimpse of her. He looked up and down the platform, but she was nowhere to be found. Where is she? he thought. And then he looked straight ahead, and hilariously, miraculously enough, she came out of the pair of doors that opened right in front of him.

Thus followed the most enormous hug that had ever been conceived in the world of man.

He brought her back to his home, and she mingled with his family, fitting in as he knew she would. Then, as only they would do, the two hopped in the couch and popped in Tropic Thunder. But soon it was getting late, and it was hard to resist one another's shoulders... and so, like any other couple running on only a couple of hours of sleep, they fell asleep together on the couch.

Around 4 AM, his stepfather walked into the living room, causing them to panic for a moment -- but only to move to a smaller couch. Why they didn't just move to a bed intrigues him even now. Nevertheless, sleeping together with her in his arms was the best feeling he had ever felt. Ever.

They woke up the next morning and he brought her to the boardwalk in Ocean City. And she, being herself, kicked off her shoes and gave the sand a little test run in her barefeet. He thought it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

And funny enough, next thing he knew, she was asleep on a bench by the boundary where the sand ended and the concrete began. He joined her -- "join" meaning that he swept her into his arms so they could fall asleep together again.

Around early afternoon, they both awoke to the realization that they ought to start readying themselves for the concert that had given them the chance to be physically together again in the first place. (After all, she did live in New Hampshire, and he did live in NJ.) And so, off to the church they went.

He helped her set the registration for her two organ pieces, and then they went up to the dark room on the tippity-top floor to nap together some more, only to be interrupted a few hours later by the coming of the first friend of the reunion.

Soon after came the rest. The troupe was both incomplete and complete enough to play the concert, which was an event all by itself, though one that does not exactly need recalling at this precise moment.

After the concert, after some endearing and sad goodbyes, he and she were alone again. They went to his home and fell asleep together again, intending to wake up early and spend more time together awake. Nevertheless, both alarm and will failed them; despite all efforts, they rose from sleep late... to an empty house.

Which was completely fine with them.

It was Saturday morning. It was time to bring her back to from where she came. And it was rainy, snowy, and shitty as hell. How appropriate.

The car ride to what seemed more like the boat platform to cross the River Styx rather than the train platform leading home, was entirely silent. She hadn't cried much in her life. He hadn't cried much in his either. Unless, of course, they were both dying from laughter together. But today was not a day of laughter -- it was the end of life as they knew it. P.S. I Love You reference intended.

Under the pretense of sharing a camera of memories, they pulled into each other in the backseat. She stared at the left window. He stared at her. She tied her fingers with his but her eyes escaped his gaze. He squeezed his hand around hers but let her gaze flee anywhere but to his, for he knew that they could not meet without tears.

When they reached the departure platform, his mom left them in privacy on another strategically placed bench. Again entwined, bonded as if they were made of the same substance, but with fleeting gazes that missed each other as if moons of different orbits. A deathly sadness, frozen in the winter storm that now seized the outdoor platform.

Freezing, he held her as she shivered.

They knew they were being ridiculous; they were not one to cry over farewells, for goodbyes had been many and common. Why should this be any different? And yet it was.

The train pulled up to the station with what seemed like a whistle of warning, as if they needed the notice. They stood up with no intention of moving.

The doors opened. Finally, she looked up at him.

A kiss.

Their first.

Snow fell.

The doors began to close, and she sprinted forward as to not to miss the ride, dropping her sweater. He shoved it past the closing gap and succeeded.

She looked at him, crying; there was no more hiding it. As the train pulled forward, she pushed, against the crowd, against space, against the rest of the passengers, to head back toward him. Nevertheless, the train proceeded to carry her away to somewhere farther than she truly wished.

Though of course, they texted for the entire train ride.