Monday, June 1, 2009

Something Real


“The weekend was hard for both of us. It put us in a place we weren’t ready to be in yet. You scared the crap out of me when you called me your girlfriend a couple weeks ago.”
“Yeah, well… this weekend made me realize I’m not ready for anything serious. I’m not ready to be in a relationship.”

All I could think about in that moment was how lovely he looked. I wanted to hate him and see all the wicked things I’d been stewing over all week long, waiting for him to talk to me. But I couldn’t see them. He looked like he’d just taken a shower; his skin was glowing and the patch of curls at his temple that he kept tugging at was shiny. I wanted to see his ugliness. All I could see was this person who had turned into someone I cared about.

“I should’ve known. It’s my fault, really. I should’ve known.” I spit it out with as much bitterness as I could muster. I stood up and told him to leave. He didn’t move. I went on about how he was the instigator. He had pushed me into a relationship, he had called me his girlfriend, he had forced me into going away for the weekend and meeting his mom and now he was bailing as soon as I was invested. I was trembling. “Get out of my apartment.” Stillness.

After a second, he rubbed at his eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought it was what I wanted… but I haven’t known what I’ve wanted for a really long time and I’m trying to figure it out. I want to say, ‘You’re right, I’m wrong. Let’s go back to the way things were before the weekend.’ But I’d just be doing it to make you happy. And that’s not fair to you. You’re… incredible. I’m sorry.”

I felt ridiculous. Before he came over I’d brushed my teeth, put on blush, sprayed myself with perfume. I was like a little girl dressed up for the carnival that had already left town. He couldn’t even look at me. Tugged his hair, rubbed his eyes. Rubbed his eyes, tugged his hair.

Tears formed in my eyes, threatening to spill past the lids and embarrass me further, so I ordered him to get out of my apartment, out of my life. I held the door open for him in the hallway and he paused as he walked past. His head was lowered and for a second he reached his hand out to brush my fingers. I jerked back, pressing myself against the wall and asked him once more to just go.

In my haste, I caught his heel as I slammed the door shut. I hope he felt it.

1 comment:

MP said...

"I was like a little girl dressed up for a carnival that had already left town." You have a very real way of describing things. And unfortunately I think we have all felt exactly this.