Savith Collure/The Hofstra Chronicle
My car rolled up to Emily’s house at 1 p.m. on a Saturday. Shooting her a text that I was there, I grabbed the roses from the backseat and got out of the car, leaning with my back against the car door and waiting for her to come outside. She stepped out backward, nudging her dog, Sonny, gently back into the house and closing it behind her.
She turned around and smiled wide – like a kid in a candy store. She said “hi” as I opened the door for her, and she took the flowers under her arm. I said “hi” back as I smiled and closed the door.
I slipped back into the car and started driving while we chatted casually about Sonny’s antics. As I pulled onto I-495 heading east, I thought for a second about the first couple seconds that always slow down when I see Emily. Slipping back into the present moment at the reference of a TikTok she saw about Stevie Nicks, we set out for Sag Harbor.
Spring 2020 was a weird time to start dating. Our relationship kicked off a month or so before the COVID-19 pandemic happened, so Emily and I didn’t get to spend much time together beforehand. A week off from school turned into almost two and a half years for me; I didn’t return full time to my degree until this spring.
We tried to keep up with remote dates over Zoom when COVID-19 started, but they were a tiny bit miserable; we just didn’t know when lockdown would end. We spent the majority of our time on the phone together. Once the initial lockdowns ended, Emily and I started seeing each other outside of campus. I had spent the last six or so years on Long Island, and she was raised here.
As an easy date, we wanted to see the sunset from every spot on the island we could think of. Everything was basically closed because of the pandemic, but this felt like it fit the rules while also being different every time. It’s something we had talked about during lockdown since we both got to see the same sky every day. It was comforting.
I yawned lazily and locked the car as we walked over to Sag Pizza. Emily shivered and grabbed my hand. It was a little late in the year to be going out to Sag Harbor. As one of my favorite places out east, the town always seemed quaint and cozy in the fall. Plus, all the summer birds had usually hit the road by this time, leaving the streets empty for locals and pretenders like us.
I’m not sure why we ate twice; I had a picnic basket in the car for sunset. We walked around the shops for a bit after, looking at the boutique dresses and the other shops. Walking around Sag Harbor always made me feel like I had fallen into a classic romantic comedy film.
Em and I headed back to the car and started off to our final destination. A friend of a friend recommended a local dock for sunset, so we set up the picnic on the grass nearby. We sat for a few hours, talking about law school and our families. We talked about the Joji album and argued on whether grape candy was a good flavor.
It felt like we talked about everything and nothing at the same time. After the last rays passed the dock, we put everything back in the basket and made our way back to the car. As I fiddled with songs on a playlist, I noticed Emily had fallen asleep on my sweater. I looked over for a split second and then back at the road, with the streetlights beginning to turn on. Like clockwork for the past three years, Emily always falls asleep on the way home. It’s always been comforting.
