I can't do this anymore
I'm sorry
But we stay friends ,right ?
Yeah
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His hands snake around my waist like they always do,fitting perfectly, not to tight nor too lose. Sending this wierd churning in my stomach.
"I miss you," he says.
I don't say anything back because we've done this so many times before
and I promised myself that I wouldn't do it again. He can't break up with me
and then act like he's the one who's hurt.
All I want is to flirt with him in office ,
to ride around in his car talking all day, and dance with him at parties
and lay poolside at his apartment and kiss. All the things we used to do. All
the things we could be doing now if he weren't busy wondering if the world holds better things for him than me.
"Are you ignoring me ,babe ?" Babe
I close my eyes how can he do this? Act like nothing happened . Like we are okay . Like we are back to normal when we aren't .
"No ."
Because really I'm not ignoring him . How can I explain to him it takes all my control not to break down right here in front of him . How much it hurts that he doesn't love me as I love him .
"You look nice today ."
And now I want to laugh. I don't want his pity . What does he thinks ? That these compliments will cover the fact that he broke up with me for third time last week. That the wound he left will not heal due to this one stupid compliment.
"I should get back to work ." Cause I can't face you.
-----------
When I emerge out of the office , he reaches for my hand.
Against my better judgment, I let him take it. I feel the familiar tightening
somewhere below my stomach when I think of all the times he's touched me.
Maybe I'm supposed to step into him now, like so many other times when he took my hand. Maybe we're supposed to be kissing, bodies pressed against the car . But instead I just stare at my hand in his until I find my voice.
"What are you doing?"
"Are you going to make me ask you?"
"Ask me what, exactly?"
He shakes his head a little and really looks at me.
"If you'll come back. I want you back."
I close my eyes and when I open them again I make sure that I'm looking
at something other than him.
This conversation isn't that different from the 2 others we had before
getting back together. But it feels different, because wanting someone is not the same as loving him, and now I understand that Zayn does not love me.
When you love someone, you are sure. You don't need time to decide. You don't say stop and start over and over, like you're playing some kind of sport.
You know the immensity of what you have and you protect it. So I look into
Zayn's eyes, and I say,
"I can't do this anymore."
"Oh," he says, letting go of my hand.
"I thought you wanted to."
I've never been on the lot this late. Most of the buildings are completely
dark, only a few lights shining from offices. I met Zayn only a few
buildings over, by a coffee shop it was bright and hot and I was a newer and more confident version of myself.
I was the boy people wanted to kiss. I didn't know what it felt like to be unwanted.
"To you I was just a boyfriend in a long string of boyfriends," I say. "But
it was something else for me."
"You had boyfriend before me."
"That's not what I'm saying."
I can almost hear my conscious telling me that Zayn was my first love,
telling me that it's over. And if Zayn needs me to, I'll repeat both of these
things to him so that everything is clear and final. But soon he says okay and he doesn't ask me anything more.
I guess he knows already. My one-sided love was probably obvious to everyone all along.
He sighs and then smiles. And even though the smile is just further
proof that I don't matter that much to him, I find myself relieved. I don't feel
any trace of the satisfaction I once imagined would come with turning him down. I just feel tired and a little bit sad.
"So what happens with you now?" he asks. "Is there someone else?"
"I don't know," I say.
And then he's stepped forward, he put his arms around me. It's a good-bye, so I hug him back, breathing in the mint amd nicotine that I will
associate with him forever, remembering how we used to shower together in his bathtub after days spent by the pool, and how in the
beginning, when things still felt easy and right, holding him close like this-underwater, in the sunlight, in the quietest nighttime hours-was the best feeling in my life.
When he starts his car I start my car, too. But after he's pulled out
and disappeared, I turn off the engine again. In the parking lot, I sit for a long.
Letting everything escape from my eyes. It's over . It's finally over. Everything doesn't end like you want it too. Maybe I'll love him for few more days,weeks,months or years. But then I'll move on cause him and I are over.
It's over
