Well, That Ends That
“What is it about him that makes you love him so much?”
Stephan said impatiently,
as the lights of the city stretched across the taxi windows
on our way home Friday night.
The ease and sincerity of my answer frustrated him even more.
“Everything. His seriousness, his silliness, his incredible humility.
The entire person he is. I would do anything for him,”
I replied staring out the window without turning to look at him.
The breeze coming in was warm as we cruised down Madison Ave.
I could feel the tears coming and breathed deeply,
hoping the wind would sweep them away.
Carl was in the front seat, bristling at the unnatural tension.
Stephan wasn’t going to let the subject go.
In a searing attempt to hurt me, he retorted,
“Well, he obviously doesn’t want you,
so why don’t you just move on?”
I wanted to scream at him –
Because it’s like trying to change your fingerprints,
some things are just a part of you!
Not that you would know,
since you’ve never loved anyone but yourself
a day in your life you self-aggrandizing egotistical bastard!
But I didn’t say anything,
and Carl turned around to see if I was okay.
I took a shallow breath, and said quietly,
“Because it’s not that easy. He’s a part of who I am.”
My tone made it clear I didn’t expect him to understand.
And he looked away with a huff.
Carl interjected to diffuse the situation.
“That must be really hard for you,” he said.
I was thankful for his presence.
“It is, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
It just is what it is,” I said, and turned back to the window.
“If he finds the One and it isn’t me,
but she’s good to him and makes him happy,
then I would stand up and love her too.
And no matter how excruciating it would be,
I would lock away my feelings and never mention it again.”
Trying to bring closure to the conversation he said,
“He’s lucky, not many people have someone like you in their lives.”
But Stephan was determined to make it an open wound.
“He’s probably sleeping with a different girl every night,”
he snarled.
“And he’s free to do that,” I said.
“He doesn’t owe me anything,
and I wouldn’t care about him any less if he did.”
“So why don’t you just fuck and get it over with?” he said sharply,
trying to shock me.
“What would that prove?” I asked.
“If we did, that would be our choice, no one else’s.
And if things didn’t work out -
if we weren’t meant to be together -
we’d still be a part of one another’s lives sixty years from now
because we’ll always be friends. That’s just how we are.”
“Why does this make you so pissed off?” I asked.
“Do you want the phone number of every guy I’ve ever dated?
‘Cuz I’m sure Chad or Dave or Wayne or Brian or someone
would love to talk to you. Maybe you could start a little club or something.”
I was getting mad. This guy barely frickin’ knows me
and has the audacity to cut on the person I care about?!?
I wanted to reach over, open his door and shove him out of the moving cab.
“How about everyone I’ve ever slept with?
You could call them too.
Ask them if they were just stand-ins.
I’m sure you could come up with enough dirt to vilify me,
maybe make yourself feel a little better.
And correct me if I’m wrong, but you have a girlfriend on the other coast.
My personal life involves you in no way, shape or form,” I snapped,
nearly losing my composure.
I could see Carl crack a smile,
and sat back in my seat ready to reload.
Stephan didn’t say anything else the rest of the way home.
I wasn’t sure if it was because he realized how asinine he was being,
or if he was content in having destroyed how happy I had been.
At the stop lights I opened the door,
fished a five out of my coat pocket, tossed it at Carl, and got out.
I slammed the door and kept walking.
I’d rather be alone forever than end up with a callous drone like that.
Posted by Amanda at November 03, 2003 12:14 AM
