You’re the kind of girl that requires figuring out; the kind that demands work and effort. You have too many responsibilities but not enough experiences. Yes, you’re the kind of girl that some people love and most people hate.
What are you going to do with that?
If this was a movie
Then it’ll probably be
A story of you and me.
A handsome young man settled in front of me. There were plates, napkins and glasses between us. As much as I wanted to extend my arms to greet him, it felt like he was significantly far.
He sat with his shoulders back, chest out and feet together. When he was five, I couldn’t even keep this boy calm long enough for a decent portrait! But look at him now. I smiled.
Today, his hair was cut short, high and tight. Back when he was ten years old, he used to cry every time I insisted on cutting his long, curly, blonde hair. I had to chase him all day or persuade him before he gives in.
The well-pressed camouflage uniform fit his buff body nicely and his combat boots were shiny. I used to enjoy dressing him up, but during his teenage years he started complaining. I would continually tease him and follow him around, handing him his jeans and shirt. I sighed, Those were the days.
Alert that I am checking him, this lad took my now wrinkly fingers by his left hand and traced the creases on my face with his right. I wondered if it was time to play the ‘staring game’.
I tried my best to blink back the tears as his whining, his sobs and the blubber sounds he used to make echoed in my head. Every time I glanced at him, I’m filled with the image of that little boy sporting a milk moustache asking for one more cookie.
He crouched beside me with his head resting on my lap.
“Some things stay the same and never change Mama.”
“Yes, “I kissed him on the forehead then stroked his hair. “But certain things do.”
‘Thank you for raising me well,’ his eyes met mine. ‘I love you.”
Looking at him eye to eye with his hands holding mine and the time standing still, I knew letting him go would be much harder than I expected. However, there are things in life that we can’t keep for ourselves for too long. Even if we want to. Except, maybe, for our pieces of memories – those we can keep forever.
–
It was Wednesday night and he has never been so nervous in his life. He has reserved a table for two in the best Italian restaurant in the city. He arrived much earlier than expected. It’s great that the place didn’t have the usual crowd they have on a Friday or Saturday evening. The view of the mystical moon kissing the calm ocean in the background made the scene more romantic.
He looked around and there she is – smiling in the lobby, waving at him. He answered back with a tensed smirk.
She wore a little black dress that complimented her features very well. Tinting her face with nothing but a hint of red on the lips, she looked younger, vibrant and sultry at the same time. The natural curl of her hair swayed with the cool night breeze as she walked to him.
She has a pair of pink ballerina flats to complete her look. Despite her petite stature, she was never really comfortable wearing high heels. She’s that one girl in class who stood out for having the most awkward walk on anything above two inches.
He could not help but chuckle.
Poised as always, she strut to the table near the terrace, catching attention from everyone. She got heads turning and jaws dropping; tables went silent and eyes ran down her spine as she passed by.
After three long years, he’s glad she stayed the same– sweet and bubbly, strong but fragile, opinionated and confident. She’s the girl he always wanted and loved for so long. And tonight, he was going to tell her. Finally.
He was practicing his lines when suddenly the figure he was staring at started fading, spinning next. He closed his eyes, rubbed it hastily and opened it again. It was not helping at all. Everything was blurry and moving in a fast circular motion.
Is this the effect of the Enzo Boglietti wine I ordered earlier? It couldn’t be. I swear I had no more than two sips.
His head felt heavy and anywhere he looked, everything and everyone was spinning uncontrollably. He tried to keep his eyes wide and searched for her as the image blended in with the people.
Trying to stand and clear his mind, he raised his left hand and looked at his watch. It was 11:11 pm. A tad dizzy, he looked again, half expecting he was just imagining. He tried the hardest to regain his presence of mind.
Liar, he thought.
“Wednesday for sure,” her angelic voice echoed in his head the same time he remembered the feeling of excitement and happiness associated with those words. “I promise I’ll see you on Wednesday.”
A week has passed after she made that promise. He closed and opened his eyes again.
“Liar,” aloud this time.
Reaching for his back pocket, his fingers felt the slim side of his phone. A familiar number appeared on the screen after he pressed one on speed dial. His ears laid closely against the phone. He put it down, pressed one and listened again.
He repeated this three times but to no avail.
Breathing deeply, he dragged himself outside the door. Acting as if he was not intoxicated enough, he resigned to the nearest bar two blocks away. Inside, he pulled a stool, sat with a slouch and stared at the collection of alcohol in front of him.
“What’s for ya?” The man behind the bar asked.
“Give me anything,” he replied, showing no interest.
The band on the lounge started playing One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer. Damn, that’s exactly was he’s going to have this “splendid” Wednesday night!
“Night’s great to cel’brate don’t ya think?” The bartender handed him his drink.
He gulped one shot and shouted, “Yes, we are going to celebrate my heart’s foolishness at its best tonight!”
“One bourbon, one scotch, one beer. Well I ain’t seen my baby since I don’t know when. I’ve been drinking bourbon, whiskey, scotch and gin. Gonna get high man I’m gonna get loose, need me a triple shot of that juice. Gonna get drunk don’t you have no fear. I want one bourbon, one scotch and one beer”
You want to know what’s going on? Do you really want to know? Her heart pounded so loud she had to yell to hear herself. The nerves inside Amanda burned and her knees grew weak as she tried to stand up once again using the bedroom wall to support her.
He surveyed the place. Clothes scattered everywhere, broken glasses on the carpet. On the bed sat her luggage, half-full. The room smelled like cigarettes and cheap wine. The humid summer air intensified the heat that was already building up.
Dear, you know I am always here for you. Come sit down and tell me about it so I can help you, the man in a well-pressed satin tuxedo said as he took another step near her.
Stop. Just stop your mind games already.
What’s going on love? Don’t you know that I care?
He stared at her with such compassion. His bright blue eyes piercing through her weary heart. She stopped herself from hugging him when he came closer and pressed his face close to hers.
I told you to stop didn’t I? Breathing heavily, Amanda pushed the man with all her might but was unable to move him. The second time she tried was just as useless as the first. He was too strong, too composed, too superior.
I’ll tell you what’s going on. I’ll tell you exactly what’s going on! —- I love you!
She was shocked on how the sound reverberated through the room. On a split second she wished she could catch the words that came out and suck them back in.
But it was too late. All she could do was take her chance, say her piece as he stood still – surprised.
Yes I love you. But I don’t want to love you. I don’t want to be hurt anymore.
He backed down a few steps. Not knowing what to do. Not knowing how to respond.
Do you even realise how much I want you? Do you even have the slightest idea of what you do to me? Every time I hear your voice my heart melts and I just want to throw myself in your arms and be yours completely. Do you even consider that? Of course you do. If you are not clueless, not cruel, not judgmental, not assuming. If you feel the same way as me, of course that would have crossed your mind. But that would be impossible.
You are not worth it. I won’t let you hurt me again. My happiness will not depend on you.
Every morning I tell myself these. Yet every night I still think about you, forgetting what I lectured myself that day. And I feel like a total idiot. For only an idiot has the capacity to still hope and love an insensitive person that doesn’t even look at her.
You say you care for me but I don’t want you to only care! I want you to love me! You say that you’ll be there for me. But you tell that to every single person you know! I want to be special. I want to be different from the rest. And it sucks knowing that I’ll never be. It sucks knowing that I am nowhere near special to you. It sucks that even though I can give up anything just to be with you, you would not dare do the same. You only see me as some random person you know while I refer to you as the most important person in my life. Can you see the big difference?
I don’t want to love you. I hate myself for even loving you this way! Considering the person that you are. Considering the situation that we are in, considering the circumstances, considering everything! How could I ever love you? I could not possibly love you! Loving you should be hard and impossible.
You and I are full of impossibilities, you know that? And that hurts like shit.
Now, what else do you want? If you can’t love me just leave me alone and stay away from me! I don’t want to hope anymore and you’re making it so hard with all your flowery words!
She wished hard he won’t listen.
Leave! Leave me alone!
She wished she could give him reasons to stay.
He stood up in the corner of that poignant room without saying anything. He fixed his suit, conscious that she was watching him. He anchored a glare out the window and didn’t move for a long time.
Amanda didn’t expect that this man would comfort her or wipe away her tears. She did not assume that he’d love her back. She didn’t expect it all, but damn she hoped!
Standing as proud as a king in control, the man finally glanced at her as he said in a calm but authoritative voice,
I’m surprised I was able to stand all that drama.
And left.
I hate it when you care so much you know you’d do anything for someone.
It hurts when you know for sure they wouldn’t do the same for you.
I hate it when I try to please you.
I hate whenever I try so hard to make you laugh.
I hate that I’m happy when you’re happy.
I hate how you make me smile.
I hate it when I get jealous of the people who hold you dear,
because for once, they held my world.
I hate it when I refer to you as my world.
I hate it when I correct myself.
I hate it when I try to control these feelings but fail.
I hate it when I even try.
I hate it when I over think.
I hate how everyone says I should use my brain,
when my brain listens to my heart.
I hate the feeling when you’re around.
No matter how I tried to forget and move on,
you always have a way to pull me back. I hate that.
But you know what I hate the most? You.
I hate that you don’t want me, when all I ever wanted was you.
I hate that you don’t know any of the things I hate.
You don’t even care.
Narratives of a Dreamer 