My Heart

Thanks and Regrets

                I was ready to take it all back—beg if I had to.

                I walked into the coffee shop and found him sitting at the booth where we used to eat donuts and chat every afternoon, just so we had different scenery besides his dull-walled apartment. My heart pounded against my chest, almost reaching my ears, as I walked towards him, my eyes never leaving his face—he was silently sipping his tea, chamomile, I was sure—and though he looked a bit older, he was still the same: brown hair that curled at the ends, a dimple on the left side of his cheeks about a centimeter away from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes… they were the same, I knew, I didn’t have to look. I couldn’t. Not his eyes. By then I’ll regret I ever had the nerve to come here and start hating myself all over again.

                “Maybe we shouldn’t do this, David.” I mumbled, hands clammy, even when snow fell in tiny pieces of hope around us. I shuddered against my coat.

                “What do you mean?” his brows crunched together, eyes pleading for me not to continue this.

                “I’m not sure if—I—maybe—maybe, we’re going too fast. I don’t think I’m ready for all this… cuddling and kissing and holding hands and being together all the time.” Lies. Lies were all I had left. I was such a coward I couldn’t admit that I cheated on him and slept with his friend.

                “Then let’s not do that, it’s okay, really,” he reached for my hand, but I couldn’t bear having him touch me, filthy as I was. He thought I was disgusted with him. No, no, no. He even trailed on, so sincere, “Okay. Let’s not touch. Ever. And I’m not being sarcastic. Are we alright?” those eyes melted, and he tried to smile even after I saw those eyes lose their spark when I shook my head.

                “No, David, you don’t understand,” I muttered when he started apologizing and telling me that he’d have never pushed me to do anything I didn’t want, “I don’t deserve you. This is all me.” I whispered like any other girl in the movies. But unlike them, I wasn’t lying this time. I really didn’t deserve him. And this was no movie.

                Tears fell from my eyes when he dropped to the ground, on his knees, pleading for me not to go.

                “Please, Sara, don’t do this. I want to keep you—I love you. Don’t go. Please.” He wrapped his arms around my legs and sobbed against my jeans.

                After a while I got a grip and untangled myself from him. I clutched at his arms and forced him to stand. If I were to protect him from myself, I had to hurt him as much as I could, so he’d stay the hell away from me and find real happiness. He looked down at me with an expression as torn as my insides were, and he safely tucked a strand of my hair behind my ears, trying to smile yet again from his tears. It took all of me to shake my head again, taking his hand and letting it go.

                “It’s over, David. You’ll thank me someday.”  I said as dignified as I could, as if it were a piece of cake and my heart wasn’t being ripped to shreds while I watched his lifeless eyes staring down at me; his nose red from the cold, eyes swollen from more tears.

                Then I ran.

“David.” I finally said.

                He stopped sipping his tea, and stiffened almost unnoticeably. I stood right in front of his table, my blonde hair swept back into a ponytail. I froze when he finally looked up and I met his eyes the color of leaves in the spring. I think time may have stopped momentarily.

                “Sara.” His face broke into a gentle smile. I tried to smile back but all I could do was swallow. I hadn’t seen him for so long I was fighting the urge to start begging now.

                “Won’t you have a seat?” he pointed to the chair beside me. I sat.

                “I owe you an explanation and an apology,” he looked startled when I blurted that out, and I continued, the words tumbling out faster than they should, “I owe you so much, I know that I’m such a terrible person for running away from you… from us… and I didn’t even look back. I was such a jerk then, and I’m still a jerk now. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just did a lot of things that would hurt you even more, and I didn’t want that because all you did was love me and take care of me and listen to me when no one else does, and I… I…” I started sobbing. All these feelings I kept inside were starting to explode.

                “Whoa, easy, Sara. Easy, calm down…” he had gone over to my side of the booth and patted my back while tracing circles on the back of my palm, like he always did back then when I had started to go hysterical. I shook my head again and again, not caring that I was making a scene.

                “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I didn’t want that to happen…” the words were a slur, but I knew he understood them.

                I don’t know how much time he spent trying to calm me down, letting me cry all my frustrations out—most of which about us, then my family, then other people whom I’ve kept so much feelings from, and it felt so good to have his arms around me again, comforting me with his embrace, murmuring comforting words that were probably comforting lies, but again, I didn’t care anymore. I came to get him back, and I felt victory and happiness. I felt so much hope right now that his words brushed against my ears. I felt as if I won’t have to beg. I felt as if nothing changed. Until he spoke again after he let me sip a bit from his tea.

                “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were right. I do have to thank you,” I looked at him curiously, because suddenly my heart froze and all the hope I was feeling was flushed away for some unknown reason.

                “You do?” was all that came out. I had no proper response to his now smiling face—instantly bright as day—glowing like the sun. I felt like I had to start the begging part, actually. By that second I didn’t even know if I still wanted to hear his answer.

                But he gave it anyway.

                “I’m getting married, Sara.” Translation: he stayed the hell away from me and found real happiness.