Goodbye My Forever Love
Was it just last year? I barely knew you then and yet I have, for the longest time I can remember. The same almond-shaped eyes, warping itself into a smile, just as your mouth would do the same. Everything around me didn't seem much different, save for a few broken swings and misplaced barrels. I hated the lack of change because it mirrored my life. Under the glittering stars of the night, I started walking back to my cabin. The warm fire engulfing my body seemed light years away. Laughter filled the air with the same jokes Aiden had told last year. I sped up a little, still processing her words with a disappointed heart that miscalculated the amount of courage it had.
A rage of anger swelled up in my chest. She had no excuse for what had happened. My selfish heart told me I deserved an answer, but then again, that's the risk I took. I hated the moralistic mind that told me what I should do, perhaps so because I did the exact opposite, knowing fully the consequences.
"Wanna go for a walk?"
I flinched, unaware she had been behind me the entire time. Suddenly, the anger dissipated, replaced with a shot of adrenaline, fueled by a euphoric jolt of peace. I pleaded with my body to reignite the resentment but it paid no attention. A part of me wondered whether she knew my answer before I myself even did.
"Do you have something to say? I said quietly, half hoping she didn't hear me.
"You already know what it's about." She paused for a bit. "Don't you find it a little pointless for me to say it aloud?"
There was the exasperation I was looking for, but even then, weakened by the mere thought of her beauty, I calmed my mind before speaking. "But I don't know what we're talking about. Sometimes I feel as if we might as well be age-old couples, and other times strangers on a prairie."
"It'll only be five minutes."
That was a lie and we both knew it. I hated the concept of five minutes, a phenomenon that tells us it shouldn't take long but it'll always will anyways. Of course, it never really mattered how I felt about the situation. A man's heart only holds back so much for the girl who has the key.
I looked around me to make sure nobody was nearby. With the coast clear and no curious souls, I mumbled "okay, fine."
The path we took was slightly off-road. It was granite, a welcome solid feel for the bottom of my feet, already tired of the soft grass surrounding most of our campsite. We had no idea where we were going, yet I had an odd feeling that something was guiding us. I prayed it was God and not Satan.
"Why are we not together" I said, suddenly stopping. "Why can't we be a fairy tale?"
Was she looking at me? The darkness of nature shrouded any visibility, her face a blurred visage molded by my imagination. I'd like to believe she was.
"Because fairy tales are made up, no matter how much we want to embrace them." Her words stung. I wanted to say something back, anything that'll give me a fighting chance, but nothing came out.
She wasn't wrong to say whatever we had, dare I call it love, was nothing more than a writer's whim, prone to heartbreak, just as much as it appeals to the audience when smothered with the hope that there's a happy ending. I wish I were the author, fully capable of molding this ending to my liking.
"I'm going to miss the peace I felt waking up every morning, knowing that the first thing I would see is a message from you. In my mind, the letters of your name stood out like no other, almost contorted in my brain, waiting to hit a nerve that'll put a smile on my face and make me think twice about what I wanted to say to you. You made my heart race and you have all the power to make it stop."
I heard her sigh, which made me quite uncomfortable. I heard her take a deep breath, almost as if she couldn't get another gasp of air until she finished speaking. "It'd be useless for me to say the same things because those were your feelings. For me, and even now I can't explain it well enough, I felt a tinge that had never come up before. Maybe it was a sense of security or the simple knowledge that this thing we had was right by all counts but wrong in the clockworks of time. It's not that you weren't good enough but more I'm still trying to figure out what good truly is."
Silence overtook the atmosphere, threatening to make us standing blood bags for the mosquitoes swarming around us. Neither of us wanted to make the first move because it'll be the last one too. Thinking back to it, perhaps all that we just said was edited junk, filtered through our minds and inorganic at best. I knew her well and knew that she was waiting for my response.
"Our five minutes are up. Maybe we should head back before people start getting worried." I had little else I wanted besides freedom and leaving her would grant me the most of that.
I froze, fully aware that this was it. Apologies either serve to continue or end something and this was the latter. She wanted to go on this walk as a form of vindication, a showing that she did her part. In this moment, she was out of the clear as long as I played along as a puppet, impervious to pain and negligent of what happiness feels like. And for her, and only her, I would gladly do so.
"It's okay. We all make mistakes."
Slowly, I turned around and headed back towards civilization. It's funny, how we never admitted that we liked each other. Maybe the random glances I would catch from her were as good as any confession I would get. One year ago, it was a fun to play out our fated romance. The night we almost fell in love should've been a mere fleeting thought of what could've been.
Even now, I would never give up what, to me, is a love bestowed by divinity. Always and forever, she'll be "the one," regardless of how stupid I sound saying it. Cliche sayings, in the end, are simply representations of the human emotions we all want to explain in a unique way, but can't, because it's too much a common feeling. I guess sometimes the storybook likes to take a different route to conclude a story.
I wonder if there's a sequel.