I sit on my, waiting for the hour to strike midnight. A woman should never wait for a man the way I am waiting, but I can't stop myself. I am so torn; I could kill myself for even needing to see him.
I hated the way love, in its duplicity, broke me into too many pieces to count and lifted me to emotional heights I only dreamed about. In a way, I wish I had never learned to love; if I hadn't, I wouldn't be trying to nurse this broken heart. At the same time, I was grateful for the opportunity to know such happiness.
At precisely the stroke of midnight, Todd knocked on my door, banged, would be more accurate. I loved his aggressive nature; it was one of the things I loved most about him. I let him wait longer than necessary before yanking open the door.
The first thing I'd noticed, was he'd shed the dark, dreary colors he wore earlier, for a much lighter tan color, which was a good match with his dark brown hair. His face, somehow it looked softer to me, relaxed, I suppose, would be a good word. Even when he walked past me, the air in the room wasn't monopolized by his presence. In short, he seemed to have done a complete one-eighty since the last time I saw him.
"I ordered some food, 'cause, you know, I kinda figured it's gonna be a long night 'cause you have so much explaining to do."
"How thoughtful of you," I said as I closed the door. He made himself comfortable in the spot I had rested just a couple minutes earlier. Todd certainly made himself at home as he plopped his feet on the table with a resounding thud. I had to shake my head; pretentious was something he definitely was not. I think he was trying to read me because he had that intense stare on his face. It made me a little uncomfortable, so I pulled at the hem of my shirt, making sure no skin was peeking through. "So," I began as I moved toward him, "what'd you order?"
"I don't know. I might've mentioned something about pate, lobster, those green things you like so much-"
"Vegetables?"
"Yeah, some of those and, sherbet or something."
"What, nothing to drink?"
"Yeah, some overpriced white wine."
I raised my eyebrow, impressed by what he had done. Todd seemed to notice everything about me, even things I hadn't noticed. I never told him my favorite meal, so it was shocking to me that he managed to figure it out. He said it was the expression on my face when I ate lobster that gave me away. According to him, I looked like I took great pleasure in cracking those shells and pulling the meat out with that "intestine" fork, as he liked to call it. He said with my aggressive nature, it was only natural for me to gravitate toward the food that fights back.
"What?"
"What, what?"
"Why are you looking at me with that stupid little grin on your face?"
I close my mouth, oblivious to the fact that I'd held it open for God only knows how long. It almost seemed as if nothing had changed between us, though I knew everything had changed. I get the feeling that he's undressing me with his eyes. They roamed over me slowly; his eyes were his hands, leaving no part of me unobserved by those beautiful hazel eyes. I always wanted it to be this way between us, comfortable and calm.
"Tea?"
"I don't have a stupid little grin on my face," I protested.
"Whatever." He paused, checked me out some more, then began talking to me again. "I figured we'll eat, then you can talk for as long as you want. We both know how much you love doing that."
We turned our attention away from each other and toward the fire, which burned in the fireplace. The lights in my room were dim, creating a romantic atmosphere and that was the last thing my body needed. As it was, I had to keep my legs crossed to stop myself from reacting too strongly to his presence.
The minutes slipped by so slowly and silently, I swear I hear my own heart trying to pound its way right through my chest. We were thieves, stealing looks at each other, then guiltily turning away. Strangely enough, I didn't want the silence to be broken, because I knew the brief tranquility I felt would become a thing in the past.
There was a knock on the door, which startled us both. Todd jumped up to answer it, leaving me sort of in a daze. I had to snap myself out of the comfort of just being in the same breathing space as someone I loved so much. I don't think people realize how good it feels to sit in silence unless they're sitting next to someone they love as much as I love Todd. It's safer than anything I've ever known, at the same time, it's equally as painful. I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak, and for him to break my heart again.
He wheeled the service tray in front of the couch, as if trying to impress me. I liked that feeling that he actually still cared, in spite of his new marriage, child and everything else that came with it. "Eat," he commanded, and with that one word, I felt like everything between us had returned to normal; whatever that meant.
We finished too quickly; the energy between us had changed to something much more tense. As much as I didn't want to deal with our "issues," I knew I had to be the one to break the silence and start talking. Todd was sitting back, looking at me both frightened and expectant.
"I thought we were going to make it this time, you know? I really thought we had found that missing thing between us and we could do it." I don't know what I was trying to say. I wanted him to be able to jump inside my mind and see what I was trying to say. But Todd, even if he did know what was going on within me, would make me say the words; it was my turn to give explanations and repair the riff between us.
"Why'd you leave?" he asked quietly, leaving me to wonder how indeed I could leave this innocent, vulnerable, loving man in front of me.
"There was no trust." That was the simplest way I could explain it to him. For the first time in two years, I figured out why I left on that cold, rainy morning. He didn't trust me, I didn't trust him and neither of us trusted the love we shared.
"I trusted you."
"No, you didn't. You kept bringing up other men; you kept accusing me of sleeping around." He always apologized for his hurtful remarks afterwards, but that didn't negate the pain. He knew, better than anyone that I had self-esteem issues, and when he accused me of sleeping around, it did nothing but make me feel worse about myself.
He slid a little closer to me on that couch that seemed to be shrinking in size. "I thought you were going to find someone better. It kept nagging at me that you were going to get sick of my shit and find someone…I don't know…easier."
My trembling hands almost reached out and touched his cheek. It was my way of reassuring him that he was everything to me; all that I wanted. I didn't say anything to that. How many times in how many different ways could I tell him there were no others that could even tempt me?
During those months we were away together, silences like this would be broken by me reaching out to him. I liked to touch him, not in a sexual manner, but one that would tell him that I'm okay, we're okay and I was I it for the long haul. Sometimes, I would walk behind him and massage his shoulders. It may not have meant much to him, but knowing I could touch him meant the world to me.
"Delgado?"
"Yeah?"
"Did I hurt you or something when we, you know, had sex?"
"Made love?" I corrected, "No, you didn't." I ran my finger through my hair, which hung near the middle of my back. "I didn't think we could love each other completely because we were both so damned scared and so damned paranoid. You thought I was going to run out on you. I thought you were going to leave me."
"I never would've left you, Tea."
I looked into his eyes; there wasn't a sign of that ruthlessly, cold man that I saw just a day before. There was sincerity and love and so much behind those eyes that I thought I could fall in love with him all over again. Somehow, I believed him and for a second, I thought we could forget about all the pain between us and start over.
I turned away from those eyes and away from him. My throat constricted and I couldn't breathe. The reality of our situation was even if we did forgive each other, he was still married with a new child. I was still an unlovable woman, desperately needing someone I could never have.
I had to get away from him and my increasing desire to have him. I stood, walked over to the fireplace and pretended there was something more fascinating in that fire, than what burned between us in the room. He was watching me, I could tell. He was watching me and I needed his love more than I should.
"You remember that last night?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Remember how we made love and afterwards, you laid in my arms and cried?"
"Yes."
"Why were you crying Tea? Did I hurt you?"
People, who didn't know Todd, could never begin to understand the depth of emotion that existed in his soul. I was lucky enough to see it with my own eyes, hear it with my ears and be its recipient more times than I could count. When he asked me that question, with all that emotion in his voice, I thought I would shatter.
"That's it, isn't it? I hurt you."
I emphatically shook my head "no," without turning around. "I was crying because I'd never felt anything that beautiful in my life. I was crying because I think you felt that too. And I was crying because I knew I was leaving that night."
I finally turned around and saw that same, baffling hardness that frightened me. I wanted, with everything in me, to shake the real Todd to the surface. Instead, I stood glued to my spot, watching his face, waiting for him to show me the man I loved. I was wrong for what I'd done to him. I was the weak one who found the relationship thing too damned hard. "Fuck," I whispered. "FUCK!" No sign of that man at all.
