She sat alone staring blankly at her cup of coffee and she knew, that today is going to be the test of her resilience. She could almost never say the things she planned to when it came to moments like these. Almost. How could things be so bad, when nothing really went wrong? Something must have been amiss and she vowed to figure out what that was. All she really needed to do was to make the decision for herself and everything would fall into place for her. She looked at her watch. He was already 20 minutes late. She picked up her phone to call him, to ask him where he was. But she didn't make that call. She knew that every call she made to him, made her feel worse because he just didn't know how to be polite. Another 10 minutes, and he walked in, oblivious to the fact that this was her second cup of coffee and she looked like she could cry any minute. He sat down, took off his shades and said, "Sorry. Got stuck up in some work. Man my life sucks." She looked at him, and assuming the role of an understanding ex-girlfriend said, "That's okay. You want something? I'm going to get myself another cup of coffee." He said, "No." It's little things like these that had all of a sudden started to spring up in her face. She thought, if this really was a guy who liked me as much as he said he did, wouldn't he have asked me what I wanted? Wouldn't he know how much I like my Cafe Latte, with a hazelnut flavour?
She came back to the table and noticed he was talking to someone on the phone. She sat across him, staring at him, and she thought of all the good times. The time he cooked for her, and the time he looked at her with love. The time when they fell asleep in each other's arms and the time when they laughed so hard at something that only the two of them understood, that they knew this is as good as it gets. She knew that she ought to have thought of the pain. Of how he didn't know anything about himself, and how he dragged her out of her comfort zone, only to leave her stranded in the middle of nowhere. " So? How are you?", he said as he hung up, and she just smiled and replied, " I've been better." She gave herself a countdown, before she began to tell him what she wanted to say. 3-2-1. She always did that in situations where she was nervous, and petrified of the consequence. And somehow it always worked for her. 3-2-1. "So, practicality is evil. I've always believed that when you like someone you work at spending all your time with them, because that seems like the natural course of action. You get past the silly details that somehow don't bother you anyway, and you feel the joy. Every little bit of it. And for some reason, the only choice of action now is being practical. I get it. It's to avoid pain. But here's the thing, I've never really been afraid of pain, definitely not as much as I am afraid of losing out on people I so blatantly love. You are a horrible person. You don't get me. You don't even care enough to pretend, and that is hurtful. But that is not what I wanted to say to you. I wanted to tell you how much I am going to miss everything about you. I can't put my life on hold, and well, obviously neither can you, but I just wish this hurt you as much as it hurts me. It's not nice that while I get to be a caffeine popping no-one, you get to be this casual. Like nothing ever happened in your life. Practicality has changed all the rules of life, that I so diligently followed, drastically. It doesn't work for me, and it sure as hell works for you. So, it's been really nice knowing you, and someday, hopefully, we will get our fair chance at being with each other. Until then, you will be missed." He looked at her, not knowing what to say. And she fumbled with her keys, and her bag, before she left, because she hoped that today would be different. That today for a change he would know what to say. But he didn't. As she walked away from him, she felt physically distant from him for the first time in her life, and as hurtful as that feeling was she was thanking her stars for it. As she sat in her car, clouded by a million thoughts in her head, she crossed her fingers and hoped this would mean clarity.
Showing posts with label shitty men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shitty men. Show all posts
Friday, April 15, 2011
1 hour : 22 minutes : 57 seconds
She never thought this day could get any worse, the sad emotional, fool that she was. As they slept in each others arms she wondered to herself, "How did I get this lucky?" She smiled to herself, and made a mental note, 'Don't let him catch you smile. EVER.'
He didn't understand why women were so affectionate, all the time. He just put women in the same bracket as all things pink, and teddy bears, and body lotions that smell like fruit. He never told her, how much he loved how nice she would smell every single day. He knew she was different. Good different. As they kissed, she realized how much it hurt to know that she liked him so much more than he liked her. But she told herself everyday, that it was okay. Two people are never identical.
He knew she was having a rough day and he tried to make her laugh, he tickled her, messed her hair up, he even propped her nose up to make her look like a pig. He didn't know any better. And she didn't know anything at all. She wondered if speaking about the day with a man who would much rather not listen, would do any good? He delayed leaving her, because he knew she was hurting, but he always was good at letting guilt go. Quick. Dirty. Painless. The minute he left, she cried, after so long. Loud. Long. Painful.
When he called her later, just as he promised he would, she felt lost, and distracted. She could hear a certain dejection in his voice. She could almost hear him say, "I can't believe I chose this for myself." She asked him why he sounded like he was out of hope, like he was unhappy. He just said, he wasn't. In fact, he was affirmative in his response. He actually said the words, "I am happy." But she, the cynic that she was, didn't believe a word. How could she believe him, when every chance he got, he left her stranded and questioned her feelings? He told her, that she had the tendency to behave like she was the only one with problems. So much for her belief and pride in her strength and ability to overcome tough situations by herself. She thought, you spend all your life wondering if the few things that you like about yourself are actually worth appreciating, and you hope, like all fools do, that the one person you share most of your life's moments with isn't the same person who succeeds in making you believe that those things don't really exist at all.
She always hated men who didn't respond when she spoke. And he was as she always said, 'another level of heartless.' But she remembered, a little later in the day, but she remembered, that, 'he was not so good with words, but oh so good with heart.' Another thing she always said about him. She told him how she needed him, and that he should never stop being himself because that is what she liked the most about him. Every inch of his body, every small part of his heart. She told him that she had forgotten that although he didn't listen, because she never spoke, he did blow wind on her face, and kissed her cheeks, and bit her arm, and held her tightly, and that was the best he could do, and his best was good enough. He didn't pay any heed to her words then, for he had crossed over to a land where he was a man's man, where he said hurtful things, and she was sarcastic, even when she was crying. She asked him, "Do you really like this? Us?" To which he said, "Yes.", and then she asked, "Tell me please what it is you like about us?" and he curtly replied, "No."
Some more hurtful words and then came the line that drove her sleep away. "I will talk to you tomorrow, I am too sleepy and I really don't want to understand anymore." She sighed, and in her head she imagined jumping through hoops of fire. "Goodnight" she said, saddened by the thought that this is it for tonight, or maybe...and he still didn't say a word. She waited, and shut her eyes in despair, feeling the lack of clarity, the blur, from all the tears. Hoops. Hoops. More Hoops. "The end", she said, as she hung up, and walked over to her pack of cigarettes. One drag. Two drags.Three and Four. The phone began to ring. The picture of the two of them that came up when he called, inebriated, happy, affectionate always made her smile. She remembered her mental note before she answered his call. 'Don't let him catch you smile. EVER.'
He called to say goodbye and goodnight.
Hoops. Good with heart. Painful. Painless.
1 hour: 22 minutes: 57 seconds
He didn't understand why women were so affectionate, all the time. He just put women in the same bracket as all things pink, and teddy bears, and body lotions that smell like fruit. He never told her, how much he loved how nice she would smell every single day. He knew she was different. Good different. As they kissed, she realized how much it hurt to know that she liked him so much more than he liked her. But she told herself everyday, that it was okay. Two people are never identical.
He knew she was having a rough day and he tried to make her laugh, he tickled her, messed her hair up, he even propped her nose up to make her look like a pig. He didn't know any better. And she didn't know anything at all. She wondered if speaking about the day with a man who would much rather not listen, would do any good? He delayed leaving her, because he knew she was hurting, but he always was good at letting guilt go. Quick. Dirty. Painless. The minute he left, she cried, after so long. Loud. Long. Painful.
When he called her later, just as he promised he would, she felt lost, and distracted. She could hear a certain dejection in his voice. She could almost hear him say, "I can't believe I chose this for myself." She asked him why he sounded like he was out of hope, like he was unhappy. He just said, he wasn't. In fact, he was affirmative in his response. He actually said the words, "I am happy." But she, the cynic that she was, didn't believe a word. How could she believe him, when every chance he got, he left her stranded and questioned her feelings? He told her, that she had the tendency to behave like she was the only one with problems. So much for her belief and pride in her strength and ability to overcome tough situations by herself. She thought, you spend all your life wondering if the few things that you like about yourself are actually worth appreciating, and you hope, like all fools do, that the one person you share most of your life's moments with isn't the same person who succeeds in making you believe that those things don't really exist at all.
She always hated men who didn't respond when she spoke. And he was as she always said, 'another level of heartless.' But she remembered, a little later in the day, but she remembered, that, 'he was not so good with words, but oh so good with heart.' Another thing she always said about him. She told him how she needed him, and that he should never stop being himself because that is what she liked the most about him. Every inch of his body, every small part of his heart. She told him that she had forgotten that although he didn't listen, because she never spoke, he did blow wind on her face, and kissed her cheeks, and bit her arm, and held her tightly, and that was the best he could do, and his best was good enough. He didn't pay any heed to her words then, for he had crossed over to a land where he was a man's man, where he said hurtful things, and she was sarcastic, even when she was crying. She asked him, "Do you really like this? Us?" To which he said, "Yes.", and then she asked, "Tell me please what it is you like about us?" and he curtly replied, "No."
Some more hurtful words and then came the line that drove her sleep away. "I will talk to you tomorrow, I am too sleepy and I really don't want to understand anymore." She sighed, and in her head she imagined jumping through hoops of fire. "Goodnight" she said, saddened by the thought that this is it for tonight, or maybe...and he still didn't say a word. She waited, and shut her eyes in despair, feeling the lack of clarity, the blur, from all the tears. Hoops. Hoops. More Hoops. "The end", she said, as she hung up, and walked over to her pack of cigarettes. One drag. Two drags.Three and Four. The phone began to ring. The picture of the two of them that came up when he called, inebriated, happy, affectionate always made her smile. She remembered her mental note before she answered his call. 'Don't let him catch you smile. EVER.'
He called to say goodbye and goodnight.
Hoops. Good with heart. Painful. Painless.
1 hour: 22 minutes: 57 seconds
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