The Man I Couldn't Keep

This is a short story about love and heartbreak with no ending.

The Man I Couldn’t Keep.

By: Julia Weimerskirch

 

It all began during the silence. I felt the upset swelling in my chest as I sat there next to him. Falling for someone that I wasn’t allowed to keep was the biggest mistake I never intended to make. We sat there in silence, not looking at one another, nevertheless I couldn’t be more aware of every move he made next to me. It was during this silence that I went through every single moment we spent together, trying to cling to some feeling that made this ending slip away like it wasn’t happening. This story doesn’t have a happy ending. The girl doesn’t get the guy, they don’t run off into the sunset and live happily ever after. That’s only real in Disney movies and no matter how magical the feelings are, this particular relationship is the furthest thing from a Disney movie. So if you’re here for that ending, I would stop reading.

When I met the man that wrecked every single wall I had spent a year building, I was struck by a curiosity I can’t explain. He was so handsome, tall and strong, dark hair with the kind of smile that could stop a train in its tracks. The kindness he emitted was something I had never experienced before, I guess you could say it was this kindness that hooked me so quickly. Matthew was unlike any man I had ever met before, especially here on my small Southern Baptist Campus. From the moment I saw him sitting at tables outside our campus student center, I knew that he was different. At first I thought it was the way he dressed that made him stand out so much. I could not have been more wrong. I walked by where he was sitting, trying so desperately to not be noticed, in vane of course. I felt my heart drop as I heard him say hey to me. “Hey” I responded. He smiled “I don’t think I know you, what’s your name?” He asked with a hint of curiosity in his voice. Doing everything I could not to blush I told him my name was Julia.

Our conversation was short but I could already feel myself slipping away from reality. Away into a world made of one of the many books I loved to read. It was like I was Desdemona and he was Othello, with all of the tragic events that could possibly conspire between a Shakespearean couple. Minus the whole, he smothered her in her sleep thing. By the end of our talk we had decided to get lunch the next day at a small café near our school.

 I waited anxiously, counting the moments, fiddling with my hair, fixing my makeup, adjusting every single part of my outfit. As I stood there looking in the mirror I felt my cat come up behind me, he rubbed his face on my legs and meowed. “Don’t meow at me, it’s not my fault this is my first date in a year.” I responded. Of course, being an animal, he looked back at me like I was a crazy person probably wondering why I was trying to communicate with him.

            Suddenly, the moment had come and my phone was going off. A text message letting me know that he was outside my building. Panic. As I exited the building, I began to search for his familiar face. Then I saw him. About a hundred yards in front of me wearing a Nike hat that would become all too familiar to me, he smiled. I waved and walked over to his car getting in immediately. We were off, the short drive to the café was one that I didn’t expect to be easy. When it comes to meeting people, I am not the best. Let alone meeting someone as handsome as him. I believe the exact word for what I am is socially awkward. But this time was different, easy and comfortable. Conversation flowed like we had known each other for years. Lunch was the same way. It was like I was getting to know someone I had always known. Matthew was from California and when he told me that, I finally understood why we clicked so rapidly. On our small campus, I encounter the same people every day. People who have never lived away from this small town in South Carolina, people who judge everyone around them and were not allowed to watch SpongeBob growing up. Meeting someone that was not from here was a rarity and it was something I treasured every time it happened.

            Lunch passed with ease, never an awkward silence, not one question felt like it was over the line. As he talked about his life back home, his family, his love for music, I felt myself slipping further and further from everything that I had built. Sitting in front of him, listening and hanging on to every word he spoke about aspects of music that I did not understand, I smiled like an idiot because I didn’t know what else to do. “What do you want to do when you graduate?” He asked me and I was snapped out of my reverie, back to the small café. In all honesty when he asked me this question, I panicked. My mind racing trying to find the words to use that would make saying that I wanted to be a writer sound more possible than it was. “I want to be a writer but my major involves teaching certifications so I can teach too if I want to.” I chose and then immediately regretted. In the past sharing that I wanted to be a writer was something that brought me sad looks, oh honey I’m sorry, and are you sure that’s even possible? But from him, my anxiety was met with acceptance and a smile. “Wow that’s really awesome, how often do you write?” He asked intrigued. “I wish I wrote more than I do but unfortunately I kind of stopped for a little while.” Out of fear of him asking me why, I changed the subject hurriedly asking him if he liked his coffee. Our conversation lasted only a couple hours, but I knew in that moment that I could stay there forever.  

            As soon as we got back to campus, I said my goodbyes and immediately rushed to my friends room. Heart fluttering and cheeks red, I knocked on their door. Olivia opened it with a squeal “How was it!” she excitedly asked, taking my hand and dragging me into their bedroom. Lacey sat on Olivias’ bed, in the corner of the room. “Yeah! How was it? Is he sweet? Are you going to see him again? Is he smart? Where is he from? Tell me!” Lacey yelled. Eyes wide I stared at her trying yet again to find the words. “I think she needs a second before we can gouge questions from here dude” Olivia said to Lacey. I sat down on the bed in between them and began to spin the tale of the Californian music producer that was sure to change every view I had about dating. As I answered every question they had for me, I started to feel that warm happiness building within me worsening every time I said his name. I knew I had to see him again. So I did.

Seeing him became normalcy for me, waking up to a good morning text and making sure to say goodnight every night became a habit I welcomed egerly. Now, as I sat silently with the man who had stolen my heart unknowingly, I wanted nothing more than to convince him he was wrong. Like in a Shakespearean tragedy, there was a fatal flaw. He was graduating in May and moving back home, while I still had a year left in school and was in a position where I had no idea whether I was going to be in South Carolina or move back home to Colorado. The thing about a Shakespearean fault, is that its never recognized until it’s too late and doom is imminent. For Desdemona, it was when she was accused of cheating when she didn’t, for Juliet it was a desire for her parents to accept Romeo, and for me it was that I wanted to be with him and he had set the ticking time bomb of graduation as the end date for us. “What are you thinking about?” He said to me and I was snapped out of my reminiscent thoughts and into our reality where I was supposed to be saying goodbye.  “Nothing” I lied as I leaned in closer to his chest. Our silence was deafening and understandable, he had no idea what to say and even if he did, I know I would wonder if it were the truth.

            I drifted off again, this time I found myself thinking back to the night I sent a text message that changed everything. While I was lying in bed, absent mindedly watching a stupid reality television show that was strangely addicting, I felt my phone go off. My heart fluttered with the sight of his name and the two monkey emojis that surrounded it. “What are you doing?” the message read. “Nothing, watching Tv, what about you?” I responded. Ding. “Nothing really, I’m super bored”. I sat on my bed and contemplated what I wanted to say to him next. In all honesty I wanted him to come to my room. I wanted to lay in bed and enjoy his embrace. With panic in my heart I responded “Do you want to come over?”. The bubble that meant he was typing emerged on my screen and my heart immediately lept from my chest. Ding. “How would I get in?” He said. On our campus, boys are not allowed to come to girls rooms, they’re not even allowed to step foot on the sidewalk that was in front of the buildings. We worked out the details meticulously. I was going to open my window, he was going to rush through the space that separated my building from the road, and climb in. Panicked I rushed to clean my room, I was a little bit of a slob that week so there were clothes on the floor and water bottles covering almost every inch of my desk. Moments later, he was in my room sitting on my bed. Heart pounding and mind racing, we were both risking so much to be there.

            We laid there, watching a stupid cartoon while I tried desperately to calm my heart beat so he wouldn’t know that I was more nervous than I had ever been. I looked up at him and in a moment’s notice, his lips crashed into mine. Every fear I had about having him in my room washed away in an instant. It was only him and I, nothing else mattered. Then he was on top of me, the feeling of his chest against mine was the only thing keeping me from floating away. Clothing began to disappear and just like that, I was hooked forever. Being with someone in that way with that amount of intimacy was something that I had never experienced before. I was in the most vulnerable situation I could possibly be in and I felt as though I was entirely safe. I felt like he wasn’t looking at every single flaw I hated about my body, but instead was only able to see the beauty that was inside me. It’s this realization that caused me to come out of my dream state and evaluate the situation that lay before me.

            Snapping back to the present, I wondered how we could have gotten so far away from where we were. So far away from that night. Maybe I had the wrong impression. Could I have perceived a night that was nothing more than a hook up, to be something so perfect and filled with an emotion I can’t describe? I wondered if Desdemona felt this same way when Othello woke her up that one painful morning. Had I imagined the feelings as being mutual? I hated myself for this thought, but once it began I was unable to stop it.

            I was scared to tell him that I was thinking about us. Remembering the moments we had shared together that seemed so special. I was scared to admit to him that I felt like every moment I thought was notable was now tainted with the idea that it was nothing more than a game. We begin to make small talk, asking how our days were, what we did, all of the things people do when they’re avoiding a painful conversation. Avoiding the giant pink elephant in the room. I slip back into my daydream as he slips back into silence. This time it was a memory of a similar situation, the moment that started the anxiety that became a title wave of panic.

See, the problem was that we had ended our situation before. A few weeks prior when I asked him where he saw this going. We sat in the car on campus, feeling the tension between us. If you want to see something painful, try watching two incredibly awkward people tell each other how they feel. “What are we doing, Matt?” I asked him, trying to hide the twinge of pain in the deep recesses of my voice. “What do you mean?” He asked. “You’re graduating in May and moving back to California, I still have time left here and I guess what I’m trying to ask is where is this going.” I word vomited out to him. “Julia, there’s a time limit on this. I don’t want to be dating anyone when I get back to California. You know that.” He said to me. I never thought the simplest of words could do so much damage from someone I had only known for a few weeks. I felt my heart drop as I tried to respond. “I love every moment I spend with you, you’re smart and funny and so passionate about the things that are important to you that it actually blows my mind. I know you want to end this but I know I could be good for you. I know we could continue this when you go home and we could be okay. A year is not that long.” Is what I wanted to say to him. Instead, I sat in silence scared to say the wrong thing. The end of this was coming and it wasn’t something I had wanted to accept, I still don’t. We continued our conversation and drove down to Flat Rock, my favorite hidden gem of South Carolina. For some reason being outside was better than sitting in the car suffocating in our spiraling conversation.

            I remembered the last time we had come to this place. Flat rock was nothing more than a large rock covered with spray paint and broken beer bottles, but the view it provided of our small city was nothing to be ignored. Mindlessly walking I began to daydream, lost in the trance that consumed me, chasing memories. We were something that was beautiful and worth beholding. I suddenly had a revelation, one that  both scared and shocked me. The last time we had made this walk to the magnificent view, I remembered feeling light and giddy. I remembered taking his hand in mine, allowing him to lead me through the fog into the darkness before us. I was so comfortable and trusting. Now, this walk feels like a death march. One that I know will end in a death, not physical but emotional . It’s crazy how you can make the same walk or follow the same path multiple times and every time it can feel new based off what you are experiencing.

            As we walked, I felt the title wave building. Slowly but surely it was growing. Fearful of the moment it would crash, I fought him trying to get him to see that we could make this work. I knew I could show him that I could be supportive and helpful instead of being the girl that keeps him from following his dreams, instead of being the distraction. Looking back at this, I realized the reason I hated the conversation so much was because I knew I had stronger feelings for him than he did for me. We kept talking, chasing in circles the idea of being together when I knew it wasn’t what he wanted. Standing in front of him, I made my final attempt to keep him. “I know your music is important to you, I want nothing more out of this than for you to succeed and chase the dream you have. I don’t want to be the girl that keeps you from that, I don’t want to be the reason you don’t do what you love. I want to be the person that helps you get there, the one who supports you through the ridiculous hours and hard work. I know you’re scared of the future. All I want to do is help.” I said both hopeful and scared at every word that had left my mouth. It seemed with every attempt I made he became more and more opposed to the idea. Moving further and further away from me emotionally. A few jokes later and our relationship was over, if you could call it that to begin with.

            To my own stupidity, I allowed myself to think that he might change his mind. Everyone around me told me that if I just spent time with him that he would. For a while, I was able to fool myself into thinking I could actually do that. He did everything right to convince me that I was succeeding. I guess that’s how we ended up here. Sitting on a rock looking over our shared city in silence. When we left campus earlier this evening, I never thought this would be the conversation we would have. We left with the intention of clearing our minds from the things that surround us at school, instead we put ourselves through a conversation where one of us was heartbroken and confused while the other was filled with pity. “I can’t do this silence anymore, Matt.” I finally said my voice jarring. “What are you thinking?” I honestly couldn’t tell. “I’m wondering what you are thinking?” he replied. “I’m not thinking anything honestly, I just don’t understand.” Which was actually the truth for once. “I think we should go” he said. Just like that, the time we had spent together slipped away. It was replaced by nothing more than heartbreak and bad memories.

            As we drove home, trying desperately to feel normal around each other, I contemplated what I was going to do the next day. Driving as slowly as I could, fearful for the moment where we arrived on campus and began the life where we go our separate ways. I wondered if it was easy for him to move on and live his life like our time together didn’t happen. If he could, I wondered how. I know I am still hopelessly attached to a man who wants all of the perks of dating without the commitment. I hate myself for letting him in, for allowing him to become a part of my life. We arrived on campus and he asked me to get out of the car, feeling my finl desperate attempt to deny the inevitable, I did. With a hug, we went our separate ways and said goodbye. I thought maybe the goodbye would make things easier, I was wrong.

            The ending of this story is one that I have not reached yet. I have only entered a new chapter, one where I see him every day smiling like nothing happened. When I think of the ending Desdemona got, I often wonder if Shakespeare gave it to her because he knew it would be the only way she could handle life. Desdemona sat back and had to watch everyone around her manipulate the man she loved, the man she gave everything away for. Defying her father and running away to marry a man that was below her social status. By the time that he murdered her, she had no idea who he was. To her, he was a warped and twisted man that was struggling to come to grips with the world around him. I wonder if there was something to love that Shakespeare understood that I never can. I guess for her, no life was better than life without the man she fell in love with. I know for me, every moment I spend away from him is one that is dark and gloomy. I know the pain I feel for wanting to keep someone that didn’t want to keep me, is only temporary. But the wounds inflicted will  forever leave a scar that cuts deep into who I am.

Reviews

[free spirit]

Wow, your story had me hooked from the beginning... Partly because you wrote with so much heart and emotion, and fearlessly let your pain through.. And partly because I have gone through something so similar in my life.
I have just reached the stage where i have the ending to my story. It's taken time but let me reassure you, you will get to that point of healing too..

Take care and stay blessed....

[Rm]

This story hits home for me and it’s the best one I’ve read on here. Sending good vibes your way. Hope you find someone who loves you the way you deserve to be loved!