Monday, 15 February 2010

• He is a Man Made Up Entirely of My Excuses

  
  

  “Baby, I’m downstairs”

              I dropped my cell phone and ran around frantically in my dorm room. He actually came; the only boy who had captured my heart was three floors below me waiting to be admitted into the building.

              “Kristina,” my closest friend at college, Jenn, spoke delicately,

              “What do I do?! I can’t do this!” I finally shrieked and I threw a sweatshirt on top of my Rutgers t-shirt.

              “Yes, yes you can! Did you all of a sudden just forget how you have been feeling the past two weeks?” Jenn urged,

              “Just because he drove an hour and a half to see you doesn’t change anything” my roommate Jess added,

              “What are you talking about?! I can’t let him sit outside, he drove here to talk to me, I can’t run away now!” I fought back.

              “She’s not ready,” Jenn muttered to Jess,
  

              “Sit down, Kristina.” I threw my sweatshirt onto the bed and attempted to slow down my breathing. Where did my composure run off to the moment I needed it the most? I felt my two friends staring at me, my heart pounded heavily in my chest. Here I was again; in the same situation I repeatedly put myself in with this boy. How many times was I going to allow this to continue to happen? Where was my self-respect? I sprang out of the chair, pulled my arms through my fleece and left the room. I sped down the stairs, thoughts raced quickly through my mind and then slowed as I saw him through the glass doors. He had been what I wanted since the day I met him back when I was a junior in high school. His lean physique, confident deposition and illuminating smile had swept me off my feet at too tender of an age. I caught my breath as I watched him inhale his cigarette; he turned, saw me and flashed his alluring grin.   

              “Hi,” I spoke lightly as I opened the door.

              “You look surprised to see me,” his velvety voice responded.

              “That’s because I am, you never came to see me when you said you would so this is…a surprise, to say the least” His friend from his university stood a few feet away smoking as well.

              “Are you going to let us in?” he asked as he butted in cigarette. I led him into the main floor lounge and sat at a table near the window.

              “I don’t get a hug or anything, babe? I drove an hour and a half to get here,” he moved to kiss me and I turned my cheek.

              “What are you doing here?” I asked bluntly.

              “I wanted to see you, this is what we needed.”

              “What do you mean, we?”

              “Us, babe. Our relationship. You’ve been distant and moody lately because we haven’t seen each other, I want us to work.”

              “Don’t you think it’s too late?” I spat. Deep within me I began to tremble. I was surprised at how firm I had been so far, but I knew the worst was coming.

              “It’s never too late” he said. If this had been any other circumstance I would have fell for his persistent effort.

              “Yes, it is. The only reason you’re here, is because you know that you’re losing me. You may have even already lost me,”

              Intriguingly enough, he avoided answering this question and pressed to see my room. I said no, I knew that if he went to my room one of two things would happen. My two girlfriends awaiting my arrival would attack him to the point that he have to be rushed to the ER or, in allowing him to my room, I would allow to have another chance. I would be putting myself in a vulnerable situation in which once again, he would win.

              “Come on, babe. Let me go upstairs, so we can talk in private, I don’t like being down here,” he begged, and I began tinkering with my cell phone to exert my anxiety. It was about to happen, this was going to be the last of us, I felt it coming…

              “They are always here for you, babe, I never am. Come on,” he attempted one last time. There was a slight pause and I almost laughed.

              “What did you just say?”

              “I don’t know, I forgot.” He answered.

              “You just said it, they are always here for me and you never are. That’s our problem; you haven’t been there for me. You’re only there when you see that I’m slipping away.”

              “What are you---“he pressed,

              “I just don’t want you anymore,” I stated.

              “How do you not want me?” he asked with frustration,

              “It’s very simple. You’re not what I’m looking for. I don’t want a smoker, alcoholic, and disrespectful asshole. I want someone who speaks to me respectfully, who actually cares about me, who talks to me regularly rather than only when he wants to,”

              “Are you being serious?”

              I saw the trepidation in his eyes. I saw the boy I had fallen for, the real man underneath the callousness, I began to succumb and then realized I couldn’t let him in again. I know I met something to him; he wouldn’t have driven an hour and half just to speak to me at this late of an hour. I knew that in his eyes I was different from every other girl who tried to be with him. I knew, that I was important to him. Just… not important enough. If he really respected me he wouldn’t have spoken to me the way that he has. If he really cared about me he wouldn’t repeatedly do the things he did when he knew it hurt me. If he really had me on his mind, than he would reach out to me, rather than speaking to me once a damn week. And if he really loved me, he wouldn’t have waited till I walked away to run after me.

                                                       ***

              You see, it’s simple, babe. I don’t want you anymore. I don’t want someone who doesn’t want me as much as I want them. Because no matter how happy you have made me, it doesn’t compensate for the times you hurt me. I can cling to the good times, I can cling to the fact that I know the man underneath it all, but what good is knowing that man is there and never seeing him? You knew I would always be there, but did you ever think about the time I would finally get fed up and decide that after all these years, that I needed to move on?

  I have made up too many excuses for you, and the minute I stopped making excuses for you, you disappeared from my life.

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