A Short Story of the Moment

I have never considered myself to be “in love.” I found myself interested, confounded by feelings of curiosity and attraction though to what still remains a mystery. I felt a lure to him that seemed unnatural, undiagnosed by the world of beauty and deceit. I couldn’t help if I found my eyes wandering towards him but feeling repulsed by what I saw. He was indifferent to my gazes and banter that I solemnly shared with him but I did not blame him. I was not forward in the slightest bit.

I felt empowered one day to talk to him, feeling sexy and brimming with confidence. A smile that could not be removed stayed in place all day, unwilling to give up its vitality within me. I approached him but as soon as I took a breath near him, my heart skipped a beat and my feelings became numb. I tried to speak, forcing something to come out but only air complied. I remained speechless for my confidence only worked for those I felt didn’t matter.

A little piece of me broke inside when I saw him with her, laughing and expressing emotions I had not let out. I could not stand the sight any longer and the green monster inside me began driving my actions as I slammed down my lunch tray and waited until he was alone. I immediately went to him and asked what he was doing that weekend and if he would like to hang out, you know, as “friends.” He nodded in agreement and arranged a meeting.

The first moments were the defining moments of the evening, the joy within me could not be compared to any I had ever felt before. The feeling quickly faded and reality settled in, the one I had not idealized was exactly as I had pictured him and that sickened me to the point of regret. The feeling I had felt transferred to him, as he began smiling the way I had and caressed the tips of my fingers. There I was, I had signaled interest by asking him on this outing so what I could I do? I agreed to a second one.

As time continued, we engaged in physical contact, an act I felt I could not help. The back of his neck was rough, his hair oily and lips chapped. The guilt settled in faster than I expected the first time, but I continued throughout the night to lead him down the wrong path. He asked if we were officially “together” and grinned anxiously as he stared into my eyes. I guessed he felt lust he understood and embraced, but his eyes meant nothing to me. Nothing captivated me, nothing about him made me feel as he did. Something had pulled me towards him once, so I said yes in hopes of salvation to bring me away from nothing.

I didn’t have to face the consequences until he grabbed my hand and told me what he had been experiencing with me and described it as love. He waited in anticipation for my response, but even I couldn’t face it. What he depicted was a fairytale, a vision he had illustrated in his own mind. After a few moments, he asked what I felt when I was with him. The eagerness slowly wilted as the moments became minutes, Frustrated, he asked if I was “in love” with him, like he was. I paused once more to think of anything to say to appease him, but the silence spoke for me and again I was alone. After days that had carried into months, into almost a year of deceit and omission, I was alone.