I stepped over a pile of clothing that sat in the middle of my bedroom floor. My 4inch heel got caught on a sweater so I reached over to my dresser to stop my fall. I leaned down towards my feet to pull off my stilettos. I admired them for a few minutes before closing my eyes to fight back the tears.
I pulled open a drawer in search for my oversized Tee shirt and shorts. I couldn’t wait to put on my security outfit and stop sucking in my stomach. I changed into my frumpy outfit and threw my “good” jeans on top of the dresser then headed into the bathroom.
I gazed at my reflection in the mirror above my bathroom sink. I pulled my hair back into a lazy ponytail and turned on the faucet. I ran my fingers under the warm water while sadness overcame me. This wasn’t the first time a guy cancelled a date but this is the first time it hurt this badly. I thought he was just as excited to see me as I was about seeing him. He told me he couldn’t wait to see me. He told me he had something special planned. I trusted him.
We met at a cocktail party on a cool spring night. He was beautiful. His deep blue eyes sparkled when he spoke and his warm smile captivated me. He complimented my black dress and I thanked him. He commented on my drink and I commented on his. He didn’t leave my side while we were at the party and I was glad that he didn’t. We exchanged phone numbers at the end of the night and he called the next day to invite me to dinner but I wasn’t available. He called three days later and asked if we could meet for a drink but I couldn’t. He called a week later and asked to meet me for coffee. I accepted.
A few weeks later I found myself staring at him from across a candle lit table in an empty restaurant. We talked about the day we met for coffee and he confessed that he was nervous. We talked about a movie we saw and he told me he was intrigued by the way I analyzed the true meaning of the story line. We talked about the drive we took down the shore for fried clams and he said he loved the way I ate. I laughed out loud and asked if I shared because I couldn’t remember if I did. He didn’t answer my question instead he said he loved my smile and that my laugh was infectious. I blushed and thanked him.
“You looked stunning the night we met. I loved your red dress.” He said confidently after the waiter poured wine into our glasses. I waited for him to say he was joking but he didn’t.
“I wore a black dress.” I said correcting him. I wondered how someone as observant as he seemed to be make such a mistake. My gut told me leave but his charisma enticed me to stay.
A month later he introduced me to his friends and I introduced him to mine. “Don’t we make a great couple?” He asked each time an introduction was made. His friends agreed that we did. My friends were suspicious of him.
He was perfect. He said my happiness was his priority and he showed me every day. He always called when he said he would and never made promises that he couldn’t keep. Before I knew it, our dates were assumed and every date was spectacular.
“I want to take you to restaurant in New York that I think you’ll love.” He said one night over another romantic dinner in my favorite restaurant.
“I also want to take you to Italy and spend time in Brazil with you. I think you’ll love Brazil.” He continued and I was ready to go.
“Wow, you have big plans for us.” I said smiling.
“You have no idea. I can picture our future and it is picture-perfect.” He said then leaned in to kiss me. It was all too much too fast but I didn’t care, I liked the attention.
He praised me everyday. He commented on how strong our relationship was and how lucky he was to have met me. He said he never felt a connection as strong as ours before in his life. He said he loved me in month three. I told him I loved him too but thought it was too soon.
Things changed in month four. His phone calls lessened and his schedule became more complex. Our weekends together were cut short and our weeknight dates became sporadic. I knew what he was doing but I didn’t want to face it. I wasn’t ready to lose my perfect relationship. I analyzed every word he said and his reaction to what I said. I studied each head nod and eye roll and later scrutinized the conversation that surrounded each action. I made an effort to only say what I thought he wanted to hear and became available to him when it was inconvenient for me to prolong the inevitable.
I rarely left my phone behind in month four. When I missed his call I would call him back within minutes but my calls always went to his full voicemail.
“It would be easier if we just text each other.” He suggested after an argument.
“What do you mean by easier?” I asked but his explanation was nonsensical.
It was difficult but I communicated with him only by text messages. He replied hours or even days later and it broke my heart. I tried to talk to him about my feelings but he said I was being crazy. I wasn’t crazy. I was hurt. I had an unbelievable urge to drive to his house and beg him for answers but I was better than that. He was fading away and there was nothing I could do to stop him.
“Ok, I understand. When can we see each other again?” I heard my voice ask after he cancelled a Thursday night date.
“Saturday. It’s only two days away! I’ll plan something special.” He said which gave me a glimmer of hope.
“What do you mean by special?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise.” He said then told me he loved me.
Tonight is Saturday and I feared that this would be our last night together. He needed to see the person he fell in love with only weeks earlier. He needed to remember how unique our connection was. I carefully applied my makeup, styled my hair and put on the outfit I purchased the night before. I eagerly ran down my stairs then walked franticly around my living room hearing my heels click with every step. My dog Emma starred at me and then at my shoes as I looked for her leash.
I hurried passed my coffee table and grabbed my phone. I got Emma ready for her last walk of the night then checked the time. It was 7:53pm. He was going to be here at 8pm. I had minutes to pull myself together.
While Emma looked for the ideal spot, I scrolled through my phone. There were multiple texts from him:
Message number one, time 7:04pm: “I’m running late, actually, it’s not looking good. I’m not cancelling, just saying I won’t be on time.” I felt a pit in my stomach.
Message number two, time 7:15pm: “Jumping in the shower. I can’t wait to see you again. Hope you’re wearing that red dress you wore the night we met.”
“It was black.” I said softly to myself and took in a deep breath. There was still hope for tonight.
Text message number three time 7:39pm: “I’m so sorry, I won’t be able to make it. I really want to see you but something came up. Please understand. I’m so into you.”
I felt the air escaping my lungs as his words started to sink in. Our date is off. The pit in my stomach developed into a lump in my throat.
Text message number four, time 7:47pm: “I just wanted to make sure you got my texts. I am so sorry. I miss you and promise to make it up to you. Please let me know you got this.”
I stood still in my yard contemplating whether or not to reply while Emma chased leaves. If I did reply, would it change the fact that he wasn’t coming? I desperately wanted to know the reason why he cancelled but I was afraid to ask. Not because I couldn’t handle the truth, I just knew that I wouldn’t get it. I ran hundreds of imaginable scenarios in my head and finally realized that the reason was not important. I’m simply not a priority to him anymore and he has moved onto someone else who is.
I received his last text message at 8:03pm: “Hey, I know you’re upset so you don’t have to reply. Actually, I won’t be able to respond if you do. I know you understand.”
I didn’t understand. The excitement of seeing him and the anticipation of our special night came to an end. I felt defeated and exhausted.
I pulled the barely worn contacts from my eyes and tossed them into the wastebasket. I cupped my hands under the running water and collected enough to splash onto my face. I pulled my wet hands away and observed the array of colors settling into the creases of my hands and then into my sink leaving an oily film. I gently removed the black mascara from under my eyes and scrubbed my face clean. I lifted my head from the sink and came face to face with my reflection again. I stared at my puffy red skin behind the water droplets and the memories our entire relationship ran through my head. The fact that our relationship was over killed me.
I splashed one last handful of water on my face and turned off the faucet. The soft towel on my freshly cleaned face comforted me a bit. I folded the towel and rested it on the side of the sink then walked out of my bathroom. I slipped into bed with Emma and turned on the TV. I pulled the sheets over my shoulder as I curled into the fetal position. I was content for a few minutes. I moved to reposition myself under the covers and the scent from my perfume crept into my nose. The pretty aroma reminded that I was supposed to be on a special date tonight and not home alone. I cried myself to sleep.
He eventually did fade away and I’m sure he was glad I accepted his actions quietly. I thought about fighting for the survival of our relationship but I didn’t. I learned a long time ago that there is no point in chasing after a man who doesn’t want to be chased.
No comments:
Post a Comment