If I start this story from the wee hours of yesterday, you'll know that he had just texted me at 1 in the morning, saying we can't meet or go out anymore, but we can still be together and just text. I saw no point of that, so I ignored him; but the very next morning, 6 hours later, I had to tell him, Please take back whatever you said last night back. All he could say was I was serious about that.
If I start this story from the first day of the year, you'll know that I had not been a bitch to him those days, and before that even, and that I did not do anything wrong and I do not deserve this.
If I start this story from back in October, you'll know that he had suddenly told me, "I think I'm in love with you." "What do you mean?", I had asked; and he had answered, that he had just fallen in love with me and that the whole time before since January, he never had any feelings like that for me. And if I continue the story from this point, you'll know that his most recent reason of dumping me was "I don't have feelings for you anymore." If this does not make him the asshole of this story I don't know what does.
____
I went up to him with a frown on his face. I did not deserve that. He brought me somewhere we could talk, and once we were seated I just lashed out whatever was on my mind. I did not tell him the story about Kate and James, which would have been a good argument on my side.
I hated how he got up when I wasn't finished talking. I'm not sure when, but at one point when he told me to accept his decision, it was all I could do not to wail. I interlocked his arm with both of mine and kept wailing, "Don't leave, just stay."
"You're making a scene," he said, but I was not. "You're making things difficult for me," but I was not. He was.
"I don't deserve this," I said.
"Nobody does."
I did not understand.
And I still did not understand when he just said he had "lost his feelings" for me. I thought I did my best to make him happy and listen to him and to not pull him further from God anymore. I thought I gave him space and checked on him sometimes and not be a bitch when he made me upset, I thought I did everything I could, why would he suddenly say that?
It was all I could do to persuade him I'll try harder, harder than I ever had if he weren't pleased with my efforts. I was trying not to cry but that was an absolute failure, like my persuasions were. I had to take his bag from him and not return it before he totally snapped.
"Then what the hell did you save me for, what the hell did you make me stop all my habits for?"
"I cleaned you up for someone else to have you, okay?" his voice was raised, but he lowered it in his next sentence. "You deserve someone else, you're so pretty who wouldn't want you?"
"It'll take me long to have someone accept the way I am on the inside, like you did! And I don't want anyone else, I want you!"
"You don't have a choice," he muttered.
"When have I ever had a choice?" was all I could say, because it was true: he never let me have a say in his decisions that involved us, and even with my parents, I never had a choice.
"You are making things hard for me," he kept saying, which I could only answer with "Then just say you'll stay and I won't make it hard for you." I was getting frustrated by the minute, and it was slowly evolving into anger. What happened to the things I had told him? About how you gotta think of what you've ever done for me and vice versa, you can't let that all go to waste.
It was so unfair. So many times, I'd thought of giving up but I'd always given him the chances I thought he deserved, because it was not all about me, it was all about us. What happened to the promises we made? He said he would only stay if he was sure I would, and I definitely did. He was being so unfair, I did not deserve it!
I did not deserve it at all.
When he was gone, I didn't know what to do. I wanted a drink, and I wanted something strong enough to make me forget everything for a while, but I was scared because nobody would take care of me. The despicable side of me told me to call his best friend; so I did. I rang Luke up. I tried to tell him what happened but my voice just went into shambles; he just told me to come to Marsiling.
____
I kept repeating to myself: "I don't deserve this."
The clinking sound of the glass bottles in my plastic bag was the only sound accompanying me, as I walked through this tiny field in front of 402, where Luke was waiting. I saw him from afar with his hand raised, so high in the air. I gave a small wave in return.
"What the hell happened?" was the first thing he asked, and I tried not to cry. I said: "He dumped me." "Again?" Luke had to say, but he was right. "It's serious this time." I mumbled.
We sat down on these little benches under a hut, and I tried to say what happened. I told him about what happened between us before, while taking sips of my alcohol; he kept quiet when I was done, but he eventually said, "I'm sorry to say this, but I knew this all along. He did tell me about it, how he had already lost his interest in you for so long now."
All I could say: "I don't deserve this."
All Luke could say, exactly what his best friend said: "Nobody does."
I still did not understand.
Luke said: "It's the way he is. He's super selfish. He just wanted you because what?; you were pretty. He just wanted to show you off and shit. And as usual he loses interest and just dumps you."
"I thought I was special. He never had any of his crushes becoming his girlfriends before, he said that. Why would he do this?"
"He will always be him, he will always put aside girls he doesn't like anymore, after a period of time."
I finished my first bottle.
By this time, Luke and I were talking about other subjects, mainly crap. After a few false alarms of wanting to puke, I was done with my bottles. I tried to let out my feelings, I tried to laugh but there only came out tiny burps. Luke laughed and said I was cute. I just started to cry again because I didn't want him to call me cute.
It was all I could do not to cry. The world started spinning and I could just lower myself down til my head was in his lap. I buried my face in my hair and started groaning, which slowly became wails, and then loud Banshee bawls [as he would call it], calling out the asshole of this story's name.
One of his arms wrapped around me, while he used his other hand to stroke my hair. He tried to coax me, with his shushes, while I kept bawling, occasionally saying his best friend's name. The gesture of comfort from Luke just made me cry harder, I deserved being held like that, but I kept mumbling: "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve this."
"Nobody does."
And I just cried harder.
____
I tried to walk, but I remember seeing messy shots of the floor; I was walking here, and then I was walking there. I was walking forwards, and then I was walking back. My bag slipped off my shoulder, and Luke tried his damndest to help me carry my backpack by both straps so it wouldn't keep falling.
He was the best support ever, I know because I remember everything. Maybe because my tipsy behaviour this time was the worst ever. I felt like I was dancing instead of walking, forward, back, left, and right. I laughed a lot too. Gotta salute Luke for whatever patience he'd had for me.
I saw the ground, spinning, but I could hear what Luke was saying. "No, no, E'indah, this way... Stop going backwards E'indah, there you go..." His tone was so gentle and patient, I wouldn't have believed it was him. I wouldn't have believed the arm around me and the hand in mine were his either.
"I've never had 8.4 percent before!" I remember I kept saying. "My alcohol tolerance is so weak!!" and then I laughed, and Luke just had to keep me entertained.
Because of how I had observed traffic lights at a cross junction, I knew when the red man was turning green, so I tried to cross the street before it did, to show off. All Luke could do was grab me from behind and say, "No no E'indah, not yet kay.", even with that patient tone of his.
We crossed the road with his hand on my backpack, a tight grip, and I remembered how I had held him by his backpack like that when we were crossing roads.
I kept calling him by his best friend's name. This I remember, because when at one point I was about to say Luqman instead, I'd choked back the word and told myself No, this is not Luqman, this is the love of your life, things are okay now.
But you know what? I couldn't be fooled. If I had been drunk like that around 'Aamir, he would have just literally left me like that at the side of the road.
When I looked up I saw Luqman, and his face was so stressed out, I felt so bad for making him do this. Yet at the same time I was glad he was there and not anybody else, and I just, yeah. Cried harder.
No comments:
Post a Comment