- I let him kiss me… and I kissed him back.
- Are you out of your mind? Why? You said you hated him…
- And I did. I still hate him and I hate myself even more for letting him do that to me. I was weak…
- Weak? And what about us?
I looked at his handsome face, showing the expression of a sad disbelief and I felt so bad and guilty. He did not deserve it at all, especially from me.
What a fool I was! I was not only weak, I was also completely out of my mind, not thinking about the extent of what I had done. And then it was too late to go back. I knew that man and I also knew that his trust was very hard to keep after my inconsistent behaviour.
- I’m so sorry. I really am.
I could see the disenchantment covering his face like a heavy and dark cloud and I could not help but feel severely responsible for that. He was devastated and I was confused and disappointed at myself.
He was wordless, so he just turned around and left.
I wondered if I could ever mend that situation and even if I could I knew he would never trust me blindly again.
If I could ever turn back time…
***
A small pot with a bunch of Myosotis was delivered by the florist at my door. I did not need any card to find out who the sender was, but looked for one in the middle of the delicate blue petals anyway. A simple message, not signed, was written in a small card. I felt a pinch in my stomach.
‘I can’t forget you… Forget-me-not’…
I knew those flowers’ popular name, so the message was clear both ways. I wondered why he was doing that and what he still wanted from me.
I was living alone for some weeks after the incident and I was trying not to stress my mind out, assuming my mistakes and knowing some acts are unforgivable, especially in terms of relationships. I gave time to my lover to think about us and to myself to get used to being alone again. On the other hand, I was avoiding the man who was sending me direct messages, trying to get back to my life and heart.
How complicated life can be with all those things happening, like storms, one after the other? Was that a fair thing or was it only a way life found to make me stronger and harder and hopefully not heartless?
I took the flower pot and put it outside in the balcony, so I would not look at it most of the times. The flowers were not responsible for anything and as living beings deserved to survive. I would water them once a day before deciding what to do next.
When I got back inside, the telephone was ringing.
- Did you get the flowers? They mean a lot, you know. I hope you have not forgotten…
- Forgotten?
- You are trying to fool me. I know you very well. You would never forget things like those…
- Do you really?
He laughed. He knew me so very well. I still remembered, of course. No one could ever believe how my memories were still so vivid and yet I wished they were not.
***
‘I am very close now. About three minutes or so away. What is the room number again?’
I sent him a text message back with the information and waited. Five minutes later I opened the door of room 308 and let the handsome ginger head man in.
We were in each other’s arms within seconds after he walked in and I could feel how excited he’s got as soon as we kissed. He was passionate, intense and manly, in spite of the delicate and soft touch of his fingertips on my skin. His hands found their way all over my body, as soon as my clothes turned out to be just like pieces of the furniture, scattered all around in the small bedroom.
We spent the whole day and night together, savouring every moment of that weekend encounter. After leaving the hotel the morning after, on the way to the train station, he said he loved that bunch of tiny flowers on the flower shop window. The blue petals called his attention and the popular name was a direct message to me. The tiny Myosotis were popularly known as ‘forget-me-nots’.
He then bought me a small pot of those delicate flowers, so I could keep it and remember our brief, but intense moments. I gave him my scarf as a reminder, when we kissed goodbye. We would see each other at least once or twice a month, for we lived in different cities, some hundred miles apart.
We had a few other great and passionate weekends together. In the meantime we used to talk over the phone every other day.
For some strange reason, after some months, however, those contacts started to cool down and dwindle and then he went silent for a time. I thought he was getting bored of that situation and decided to stop seeing me. Things like those happen all the time and I was not really surprised, although a bit disappointed. The distance between us was an impediment to deepen our affair. I still tried to keep the flames burning alive, leaving loving private messages to him, but he did not bother to respond them for a long while.
I considered there was a motive for the lack of contact and I tried to understand the reasons behind the actions. Maybe he did not want to worry me. Maybe he was tired and did not want to be upset by explanations. Maybe… maybe… maybe…
There were so many maybes to consider and none of them seem to be strong enough to substantiate the silence and the lack of contact.
One Saturday morning when I was getting back home from the supermarket, I got a call. His voice sounded strange and different. I thought to myself there was something wrong, but waited until he talked his heart.
He said he tried but could not contact me as much as he would like to, for there was someone else in his life. He needed a very special favour from me. He wanted me to send a short e-mail message, stating there had never been anything else than just a mild friendship between us. He needed that to show his woman that we were just acquaintances, for she had found one of my messages on his phone messenger and got furious at him.
That hit me like a dagger being stabbed on my back. I felt betrayed, abandoned and lonely all of a sudden.
I still tried to sound cool and unaffected, but I was so sad, upset and offended that I decided I had to stop that situation for good and forget him for the sake of my sanity. He did not deserve my tears or my worries.
He would get his message, as he needed and then I could go back to my dull life, while he would go back to his life and his woman as well.
He never sent me another word since then, so I called it quits.
A couple of years have passed from the day we had that last contact and I was comfortably living on my own and used to my secluded and simple life.
One Sunday morning, I was having brunch at the Café downtown and I saw a tall blond man coming in. His flaxen hair was shining under the light in the room and his bright blue eyes crossed mine when he sat at the table right opposite to mine.
From that special Sunday on, my heart healed slowly from the previous wound and I felt I was lucky to have my blond lover brightening my life up. He moved in weeks after we started dating and I never regretted that decision. He was a good man and treated me with kindness and respect, in addition to being a generous and sensible lover.
When the doorbell rang, one late morning, while we were having our Sunday brunch together, I could not anticipate who it could be. It was hard to believe I was again standing in front of the man who hurt me so much in my past. He was on the door threshold, acting as if nothing had ever happened that would have set us apart…
***
- It is another of my contradictions trying to make sense… maybe they don’t really do…
- Well, they really do make perfect sense to me. Believe me. Your coming and going into my life is not good for me at all and I don’t think is good for you either…
- I understand what you say, but we could try once more. We can make this thing work this time.
- I tried to convince myself that I should be patient and understanding. I tried to convince myself we were made for each other. Now I know I was wrong… and this is not any of my contradictions. I was unfair to the man who was kind and always faithful to me and I deeply regret it. You’re not him and you will never be… you’re, in fact, mean and spoilt and do not deserve either my tears or my love and affection.
And that was the last time I had any contact with that ginger man.
***
I had to try and make some amends, otherwise I would feel guilty for the rest of my life, so I got in contact with my good friend and asked him to come and have a coffee with me at a certain Café downtown. By the tone of his voice, I could feel he was still uncertain and upset, but I insisted and finally gave up and accepted.
I was sitting at the same table when we saw each other for the first time. When he came in, tall and handsome, I recalled the same sensation of the first time. Butterflies flew in my stomach but this time for a completely different reason. I was very anxious.
He walked toward me with firm steps and found his way when he saw me sitting there, but did not smile. I got even apprehensive than before.
- How have you been?
- I’m OK. My work absorbs more of my time than I need, but I can cope with that.
- Right. Would you like some coffee? I definitely need one.
- Yes, sure. I’ll call the waiter.
No intimacy. No smiles. No hope. But I still had to make an extra effort. The waiter came and brought our coffees and we drank in silence. For two people who used to be lovers, that was quite awkward. I decided I had to break the silence for the sake of my future sanity.
- Let’s be fair to each other. We need to sort this out or else…
- Don’t. There is nothing else to sort out anymore. Time for fairness and patience has gone. Now it is too late… It’s really too late for us.
That time it was I who was wordless. He had been holding his deception and anger for such a long and painful time. It was the time and occasion to express what was still going on in his once so tender heart. I had to give the man his chance to speak up as freely as possible. And he did. I listened to him in the most difficult silence to bear.
He was in his right to say what he had stuck in his mind for so long and I had to take it and swallow his words like a very bitter medicine. I just did not know if that would provide me any healing at all.
My feelings and emotions were broken, shattered and scattered all around the place. I felt like asphyxiating. I needed some air urgently. I ordered the bill, paid it and got up, walking straight to the door. He followed me in silence.
As we walked down to the beach, I was feeling so sad I could not see or think clearly. The day was heavy as were my heart and soul. Dark grey clouds were announcing bad weather for very soon.
We stood side by side, for a long while, watching the sea go back and forth, in that monotonous and constant movement. My mind was void. I could only feel an immense sorrow trying to swallow me like a giant black hole.
He said nothing all the time, keeping his stare on the horizon or on a point beyond it.
I turned around halfway to look at him, but he seemed as empty and far away as was his mind as well.
I felt I needed to do something as my last chance and then I kissed the back of his shoulders, holding his both arms in my hands and trying to show him there was still so much affection and love in me, but he shivered a bit and then tensed up immediately.
I felt it was so difficult to swallow my pride and not to cry. I stopped and closed my eyes. Then I just walked away, saying nothing. There was nothing else to say. There was nothing else for me with him any longer.
He never turned around to look at me, he never said anything nor did he try to hold me back. Those arms and chest where I once felt so safe and sheltered in his embrace were not there to hold me anymore.
The man I loved once and so much could not trust me to any further extent and I knew there could never be any healthy relationship without trust. Our time together was gone and I sadly accepted it was all my fault. I had to learn how to live with that for the rest of my life.
I did not turn around as I walked back on my way to the car. It was time to face it and just walk away while there was still a thin trace of pride in me. I would have to face solitude as my only one companion again.
Behind my back I heard the drumming of thunders and the flashes of lightnings, so I knew what was coming next…
In seconds, the storm started and I was surrounded by the sudden shower of cold water pouring over my head and body. I felt no shame at all for crying, allowing the raindrops to mingle with my weeping. How cliché it was, crying in the rain, but I was not worried about how common or how idiot that could seem… It was raining inside me as well… and heavily…
I did not feel like running. I just wanted the rain to wash my pain away for a while… and it did… for a second or two…
In my heart I knew we would never set eyes on each other ever again after that stormy day… and I was right…
