Planned meeting

Planned meeting

A Story by Nymphadora
"

I decided to write this to get the reaction of the experts regarding "closure". This was the first closure i had done. Judge me if it was really a closure.

"

There he was on his usual straight-cut jeans, loosely-fitted shirt and black rubber shoes. He was late for thirty minutes, just like before. Cold sweat ran down my forehead as he approached. That was a different planned meeting, really different.

 

 

He sat on a cemented bench beside me, slightly distant compared to where he commonly sits. Legs apart and hands on side, he never reached for my hand but I expected it to happen.

Long silence filled the atmosphere. I must start the conversation for I was the one who asked or begged for his appearance.

 

“How are you?” I asked.

 

“I’m suffering from asthma. The attacks go too often,” he replied. “How about you?”

 

“Doing fine,” I answered, though I was not. I’m trying to create an impression that I’m strong to mask how weak I am. It was only with him,Raymond, when my vulnerability came into surface. Love by then, as I understood it, just transformed me into a vulnerable mortal.

I decided to go straight to my aim.

 

“I wanted to talk to you to end everything up. Forget me after I step out of this place. I don’t to expect for you to be back, for I’ll just feel the suffering. Now, tell me, how did the love fade?”

 

“If you’re asking me for an explanation, I cannot give you any. It just happened,” he said stabbing my ego.

I asked him for months just for this moment to happen, just to hear why he has to leave, just to know the reason why he has to hurt me this way. Four months prior to this closure, he just sent a mail containing a word – farewell. That’s it a literal farewell word with a period. Yes, he has a right to leave me. But at least, I deserve an explanation. What is painful, far too painful than being abandoned, is knowing that I’m not even worth an explanation. I was appalled not hearing what I imagined to hear.

 

It just happened. I stopped my tears from falling. My vision was blurred by the pool of tears setting ready to trickle down my cheeks.

 

“I should have been more intelligent after opting to leave you. It was my fault. I was too scared for this moment to ensue. I’m not gifted with such eloquence to express what I exactly feel. But I have to thank you. Without you, I’ll never be a better man.”

 

A spring of hurt urged my tears to fall. I envied his strength. I was envious with the way he controls his feelings. By then not a tear left his eyes.

 

“Are we really ending everything? Can we be friends?” He asked with sight to afar.

 

“What for?”

 

“Nothing. If you don’t want to, it’s fine.

 

From that response, he has provided me a notion that he no longer needs me for a commitment but he can’t afford to lose me totally.

 

I packed the book I was reading before he arrived, suggesting that I’m ready to leave. I took a plastic bag containing the things he has given me from my bag. I handed it to him.

 

“It’s yours,” I added.

 

He gave a long sigh. I was trying to decipher what that means but I’m too absorbed to entertain such thought. I stood up, walked never looked back. Just return it when you’ll learn to love me again, I thought.

 

That was a different planned meeting. That means goodbye. That moment let emptiness resides inside me. I want him back. But I must learn how to let go.

 

 

 

 


 

© 2008 Nymphadora


Author's Note

Nymphadora
uhm, that was the most tragic thing that happened to my lif

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It's a little more like a vignette than a short-short story. I would look for more oblique ways of conveying love lost. For one thing, his temporary almost-eloquence re the affair making him a better man rings hollow, especially in light of his "It just happened" shrug-off of the affair. He seems unworthy, in that regard. This is brief enough, I would treat this as an exercise, and rewrite it more subtly, like things noticed out of the corner of your eye, rather than this head-on sense of futility. I don't know if that makes any sense to you, but try evoking a poetic mood, that shows your own worthiness of love, that you rise above. As is, it hardly seems worth it. I think it should be more about your ability to affirm your lovingness, to rise from the ashes of the bittersweet, without hanging on to what is unfair to your heart.

Posted 13 Years Ago



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Added on September 7, 2008

Author

Nymphadora
Nymphadora

iloilo, Philippines



About
A mere mortal living in the vast earthly space, nymphadora. Lays in me is a strong spirit, willed and never tormented. I write to achieve my ideals. If i cant reach my aspirations by grasping what rea.. more..

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