Unwanting

Through the Venetian blinds of the big square window of my living room, I watch the birds fly in different directions. One keeps on flying and the other flies to the grass. I have no thoughts but only a feeling.

A gentle knock, one I could’ve missed if Jesse didn’t bark in response. He looks at me and runs to the door. He’s a small dog but holds his ground. He was no longer a terrier but a Doberman.

I’m startled. I rush but creep quietly at the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone. If it’s a salesman or an unwanted neighbor, I could pretend I am not here. I wonder if they would quietly know from the soft creaks of the floorboards or when Jesse stops barking.

Not expected, but I am still deciding if wanted. I open the door. “What are you doing here?” I ask flatly. I didn’t know what else to say.

“Can we talk?”

Can we talk?

Can we?

I pause. I quickly weigh out the pros and cons.

Cons: He is not here for the reason I want him to be. He will hurt me with words or actions he had done. Would anything that pours out of his mouth make any difference?

Pros: He could be here for the reason I want him to.

“Okay.” I step aside and he walks in. He looks around but nothing to be fascinated about. The picture frames are on the same spot on the wall collecting dust on the glass. The appliances remain on the marbled counter, barely even touched. Only a small rearrangement of the couch and decor to feel like it’s my home.

My heart is pounding. If it could, it would jump out and run down the road with a thumb waving around in the air. Take me anywhere but here, it would say. My thoughts are bristling past one another. What is he going to say?

He smiles and pets Jesse. He kneels to his level and starts talking to him in baby talk and rubbing him all over. Jesse loves every second of it.

I sit on the couch and watch as they have their reunion. Last year, on this very couch, he was holding him in his arms. He was so tiny. We both had wondered if he would ever grow bigger.

Can I go with you, Heart? Maybe our chances of running away from here would be better together.

He stands, done with kisses and licks. Jesse wasn’t and jumped up for more but was ignored. He sat down on the other edge. Silence.

“I’m sorry.” He mustered up after a minute. I didn’t know he was capable of saying such a word.

“For?”

“All of it. I made a mistake. I’ve been thinking about you non-stop. I want to be with you. I’m sorry.”

Stupid heart came back and was ready to leap onto his. I forgive you, it exclaimed. My mind didn’t. He continued but I sat there. I just stared at the glass of water on the coffee table.

What do I say next?

“Why should I believe you? I believe you are an honest person, but I don’t believe the words you say anymore. I don’t think you even believe the words you say. You said you wanted a future with me, then you left. You wanted to move in with me and get a dog together, then you left. You said you loved me, then took it back a month later. You have constantly said and showed me that you do not want me. So, what makes this any different? How do I believe you won’t change your mind tomorrow?”

He was teary-eyed. I felt bad. I wanted to run to hug him because at one point he was my boy. He is not anymore.

“I’ve changed.”

“How?”

“I know what I did was wrong. I was lost and thought I wanted to be alone, but I kept thinking about you. I want to do better. To be better.”

The ice melts and starts to form a ring around the bottom of the glass.

“You really had hurt me. You disrespected me. You judged me and brought me down. I felt like I was nothing. I felt that I wasn’t good enough. I am so tired of being hurt. Of crying. You never ask me questions about my life. You aren’t even interested in me. You are never there for me.” I want to go on and on.

He nods and says I know. I began to cry. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Why couldn’t you treat me right in the beginning? Why couldn’t you realize you wanted me then? I don’t ask this because there’s not an answer. It is just how it came to be.

“I can put the past behind, but how do I believe you won’t do this again?” Then it forms the loop. He says I’m sorry. I say more of what bothered me. “I want to go on dates and brought flowers. I want to feel loved and secure. I want to feel like enough. I always felt like I wasn’t enough for you.”

Then I stop. Why should I be telling him how to treat me? How to love me and respect me? He should already know. If he doesn’t it is not my job to inform. Words can come out but I know they wouldn’t stick. How can they when he has a fixed perception of me. He does not want me. Not really. He wants a friend more than a commitment.

“I can't do this. I can’t keep doing this with you. I like you. I really like you. I see a future with you. But I can’t keep getting hurt.”

I stare into the window watching as the one bird flies out of sight while the other one stays still. I hear the ice shift in the water that sits on the coffee table. It’s beginning to melt. I start to cry and I quickly wipe away any tears. Jesse lays on the couch, snoring.

My mind tells me I know better. But the heart longs for a different story.

“Can we talk?”

“Okay.”