Powder [phan]

XXXIII

He smiled at me gently and maybe we could talk about some things again. We've never had pizza together, never met since he's been back. Just with Oliver. But maybe talking in private about what was going on with us isn't such a bad idea.

"You didn't have to come." He said, turning his gaze back to the wholesome lawn.

"The way you say that makes it sound more like you didn't want me to come." I said, smiling at him, but he was completely ignoring me.

"Maybe."

"Why?"

I couldn't immediately explain why I felt that way, but somehow I was disappointed that he reacted so dismissively.

"I wanted to be alone." he almost muttered and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Should I leave?" I asked carefully.

He didn't move, didn't say a word, and I knew deep down, whatever he was thinking, I didn't want to go. Just as I knew that I wasn't only here because I was worried. Actually, that had been rather incidental and I hoped that he would immediately shake his head, shyly or whisper softly that I should stay. But my hope remained unfulfilled.

"I don't think you want me to go." I took over, handed myself over to him.

"I don't know what I want." he mumbled indecisively and I almost got up and left, but then he kept talking.

"Or rather, yes, I know what I want, but I don't know if it's so good for you to do it or to give me what I want."

"What do you want?"

At last he looked at me and I could almost see it on his lips. How he wrestled with himself. And then he looked away again without saying anything.

"Do you still blame yourself? Because of what happened back then?" I wanted to know and saw him swallow hard and slowly start nodding, but not looking at me. "You don't have to blame yourself. What has been is over and if you don't stop scourging yourself and allow yourself no more human feelings at all, you will never be happy." You could tell he was trying to suppress his feelings, but I didn't want him to do that.

"What do you mean, no human feelings? I feel quite a lot, I'd say." He laughed bitterly for a tiny moment and then closed his eyes as a breeze moved his hair.

"So tell me." He looked at me, as if he was scared. "Tell me what you feel."

"I go crazy thinking that you might spend the rest of your life with someone else and not with me. I mean, yes, you broke up with John, but it doesn't mean anything and I know it doesn't mean anything. It just means that at some point, someone is gonna come along and I'll have to deal with it."

Suddenly it was so palpable to me how hurt he really was and how much he was holding back. I couldn't even imagine how often he had had this conflict with himself in the last months, sometimes with a better, sometimes with a worse outcome.

"I think you're thinking a little ahead here." I tried to calm him down, although I didn't realize what that would achieve.

"I don't know." he brought out in a trembling voice. "I understand everything you've just explained to me and maybe you're right that I shouldn't be so hard on myself, but, honestly, how could I not be after all this? Where's that fucking development I spent twelve months in therapy for?"

I wanted to say something, but he just kept talking.

"I just haven't changed a fucking bit. I'm still the selfish asshole who wants you. In therapy, I told myself I was over you and as soon as you're in front of me, everything is exactly the same. And I don't know if that's ever gonna change. And you looked happy with that John. He seemed nice, but I hated him because he wasn't me. I'm no fucking better than I used to be."