Last Fall

Do It Over

"Get out."

"Please don't do this. Let me help you get through this." She pleaded. "I love you."

"Well I don't love you anymore." I spat and her whole body froze. We stood in the entryway, her as still as a statue as I told her how worthless she was to me and how I didn't want her around anymore. I called her every name in the book, but venom replaced what used to be endearment. When I was done I repeated five words that were sure to destroy whatever hope she had left.

"I don't love you anymore."

She gave up and we both knew it. I started fights that she couldn't keep stopping and those five words were it. She moved in a trance, slowly, as if she were about to break. Her fingertips grazed my features, from my eyebrows, to my eyelids when they fluttered closed, to my nose, my cheeks and finally my jaw. She studied me, memorizing every detail. Her proximity was doing things to me, but I was far too stubborn to let her know that. I refused to jeopardize my ego or my pride, but the taste of her minty breath on my lips had a hold on me. She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear like she did the first night we met.

She stood in the doorway, suitcase in one hand, door knob in the other and cast one last longing glance at me. "I still love you."

And then she was gone.

I choked on my sobs and held her shirt in my fists, pressing my face into her chest and inhaling her scent. "Hey." She said rubbing my back. "What's wrong?" Her voice was scratchy from just waking up. Mornings with her were what I missed most.

"I didn't mean it." I said distraught. "I swear I didn't mean it."

"Didn't mean what? What are you talking about?" She questioned softly, like talking to a baby.

My fingertips grazed her features, from her eyebrows, to her eyelids when they fluttered closed, to her nose, her cheeks and finally her jaw. If we never got back to where we were and she wanted to zone me as a friend and never again a lover, then I wanted this moment one last time. A look of recognition flashed across her face and I didn't miss the hurt reflected in her eyes. It was the same hurt I caused a year ago.

"You once told me" I hiccuped and took a deep breath "that 'Do not love me out of loneliness. Do not love me out of desperation.' were the breaking words" sniffling "you told your first love and I" I shut my eyes "I was your second love and when I began to love you in hopes that you would fill whatever gaping voids lie within me" hiccups again "I could no longer love you selflessly, the way you deserve." I breathed through my nose "It's quite like being thrown out to sea. I couldn't save us both in the wake, but I'd be damned if I made you drown with me."

"You kept pushing me out the water and I kept pulling myself in."

I opened my eyes, anchoring them on hers. "After you were tangled and sunburnt, cut by shells, I shoved you into the sand, but you got up, and dived into the water again to teach me how to swim." I laughed, hiccuping and sniffling and wiping tear drops off my neck. "I'm still in love with you." I told her with as much conviction as I could.

My worry grew with each passing moment that she remained silent.

"I'd do it over."

My eyebrow(s?) furrowed in confusion.

"I'd do it over." She repeated.

"Do what over?" I asked shakily.

"Us." She explained. "I'd go through all the fighting and all the pain over and over and over again if it meant I'd get to be in this moment, with you, hearing you tell me you're in love with me. I'm still in love with you too."

And then she kissed me.