WITHOUT GAIN

She has agreed to meet me. The meeting point is a local coffee shop, close to her house. I’m not supposed to know where she lives, but I have been stalking her ever since we broke up.

I sit at the edge of my sit, in front of my drink, waiting for her to show up. A voice in my head repeats itself that she is going to stand me up. Suddenly, the door opens and, along with the cold air, she appears. Strong, tall, beautiful. Her hair is longer. Her nose is red, probably because of the cold weather. I lose my words. I’m happy, thrilled, excited. Yet, my anger prevails.

“You left!” I say.

“No. I ‘ve just arrived.” She has always been the literal kind of girl. I take a deep breath. Focus.

“Take a sit. What would you like to drink?” I say.

“A hot chocolate” she says. I stand up, ready to head to the bar.

“No. I ‘ll get it” she says again.

She leaves. Again. Just like she did four years ago. I don’t know why I’m here. She is married to someone else. Yet, I feel the need to speak to her. To tell her all the things I should have said then. For what? I have no idea what I expect her to do. Break off her marriage? Come back to me? After four years of total and unequivocal absence?

She is back. She curls in her chair; her little fists wrapped in her sleeves. What wouldn’t I give to touch those fists, even if they would end up punching me in the face. I don’t know why I think that.

“So?” she says. “You wanted to talk.”

“You left” I say again. Her eyes roll in confusion. “You left me.”

She takes a sip from her drink.

“You asked me to.”

“I didn’t mean it.” I sound stupid.

“Well, it’s kind of late to take that back. It’s been four years.”

“Yet, I can’t move on. I need to tell you all the things I should have said then.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. To get closure.”

“What sort of closure would you get by telling me things you already know?”

“I know them, but I ‘ve never said them. These thoughts and feelings belong to you. I should have shared them with you. But I didn’t.”

“Ok then. Go on.”

“I love you. I loved you from the first moment I saw you. And ever since I have been trying to find a way to reconcile my fears, my prejudices with that love. But you didn’t give me enough time .”

“You had a year or so.”

“I know. I know. I didn’t believe we would last that long. You need to understand how scary it was for me. Realizing my feelings, my wants and needs. I have never felt like this about anyone. Not even for my ex wife. No one has ever spoken to me like you did. No one has ever sat with me in silence; without expectations. I was sinking into love. There was nothing to hold me. I could see us together in the future. That scared the shit out of me. I wanted to stay but I also wanted to run. Far away from the fears and the destruction I saw coming. But then you left. That’s when I realized how stupid I have been. My house was empty. My bed was lonely. My mornings went silent. I had no reason to wake up in the morning. Nothing could fill the void. You changed me. Like, for ever. I can’t go back to who I used to be. I want to feel what you feel, I need to think what you think. But I have no idea what that is. I have been stupid enough to ignore you, while I had the chance to figure these out. You gave purpose and meaning to my life and when you left, you took all these away with you. I have nothing. I’m nobody without you. Every moment we have spent together imprinted your soul into my mind; into my very existence. I became yours in an unequivocal way and I will be yours for ever. I know you are married to someone else. I don’t expect that to change. You didn’t want to marry me. I guess I wasn’t a marriage material. However, at the time, I thought you felt the same; that you belonged to me as much as I belonged to you. I thought you knew. I was counting on your understanding. Yet you left and you never even looked back. How can this be? How could you be feeling so differently?”

I hush. I expect something from her; an explanation, a comforting reassurance that I still have hope. She looks at me. Her blue eyes sparkle a tiny flame.

“You said you didn’t want anything serious. You also acted as if you didn’t. You asked me to leave. You never asked me to come back. I have moved on. It was the only reasonable decision.”

That’s it! She says nothing more; just stating the facts, the sequence of events. She has always been kind of detached. She rarely showed any sign of genuine emotion. If I want to be honest, I was never sure that she had feelings for me. I had to decipher her demeanor. I liked puzzles.

I hesitate. My ego raises as a protective fence. Yet again, I can’t go back to my misery without asking the question.

“Yes. But did you ever love me?”

Her eyes stay still, piercing my despair. I always admired her courage. Sometimes I envied her fearlessness; her silent admission that “It is what it is”.

“What was there for me to love? Did you ever ask yourself while we were together, or even after I left?”

I did. Many times. I couldn’t find a solid answer. All I could gather were memories. Lots of memories. Day trips, dinners, nights in bars, afternoon coffees, passionate nights, tender mornings. And I would be washed up by the feelings and impressions that filled my soul; thrown back to the tormenting dilemma of believing that she felt as I felt at the time or that she hated every moment with me. I know that now is the moment to let down my guard and suck up the raw truth, whatever that is.

“I did. Yet, I need to hear it from you.”

She moves in her chair as though I’m making her uncomfortable.

“Why is this important? What’s done is done. Why can’t you accept that whatever that was, is over and move on with your life? You say you belonged to me. You have never acted as if you did. I did love you but not as someone who was mine. I loved your fears, you prejudices, your weaknesses. Because all these made you human, vulnerable. I loved you while knowing I couldn’t live for ever with someone who was so scared and unwilling to overcome his shortcomings. I loved you but at the same time I could see the end coming.”

More puzzles. I can not understand what she means. If you love someone, you never leave them. You fight for them. That’s what I anticipated she would do. Fight. Break down the fences, hush my fears, handle my demons.

“You gave up on me!” I say. The anger bursts in my stomach. The grievance, unbearable. Her eyes sink into mine. I hate her. Now I remember; everything comes back to me; everything that exacerbated my fears. Her nonchalant presence, knowing everything, yet fearlessly scorning the despair, accepting everything as it is. Disarmed! That’s how I feel. “Why?” I say again. This time I fail to hide my anger. I fail to notice the discreet presence of the waiter who leans gently closer to us.

“We are closing in ten minutes” he says politely and I want to smack him. She nods at him and as he leaves, she focuses her eyes to me.

“We should leave.”

I grasp her palm into mine. The blood is pounding my temples. I see fear in her eyes. Yes. That’s what I want to see. Fear, pain, hysteria. She pulls her hand away and starts gathering her stuff, refusing to look at me. I sink in my misery again. The light becomes dim. The darkness approaches relentless, merciless. Many conflicting feelings gather in the gate of my soul.

I’m thinking fast. What are my options? I can pretend to be the tough guy. I have tried that. Burnt to the ground I was left. I kneel. I look at her. Begging. She looks at me. I see tears in her eyes. She is in pain. An old pain. Probably as old as our broken affair.

“I have loved you. I did belong to you until you made it unbearable to be anywhere near you. You had abandoned yourself years before I came into your life. Every day I was with you, you would hurt me in unfathomable ways. As though you enjoyed torturing me. Until I stopped loving myself. I couldn’t bear to look myself in the mirror. I hated myself for letting you steal the love I had for me. Now you pretend to be the victim of this crime. Don’t be so kind to yourself. You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve me being here after all the rubbish you threw on me. You are a horrible person. Yet, I loved you for being horrible. Because my whole life I had to deal with pretentious assholes. At least you were genuine. A genuine asshole who treated me like a chewing toy. You say you fear love. That’s because you are a coward. There is nothing cute or lovable about that. If you ever grow a pair, try loving a sadist like yourself. Only then you will understand the hell I had to survive because of you.”

I remain knelt watching her storm out of the coffee shop. I lack the strength to pull myself up. Knelt to the ground she hit me with the truth. A horrible depiction of my past self. Talking, moving, conquering with my arrogant ways. I’m supposed to go home. Not alone. Accompanied by this horrible persona I carry on my shoulders. Accompanied by her pain that she finally placed where she should have four years ago. I don’t feel relieved or hopeful. I feel weak but I see the burden I’m supposed to lift. Without gain.