One night, I gave myself permission to redraw the memories in my head. At least to remind me that one point in my life didn't feel so much as black and white.
I was down at that park in that beautiful December day, the ring in my pocket and a strong urge positivity waved through my entire atmosphere. Was it too fast? Or should I have asked sooner? I've never been more content my whole life. I was excited, but I also told myself that whatever her answer would be, I would accept. If it's a yes, I'll take it. If it's a no, then I'll wait.
But then, things went differently.
I sensed something off, the moment I walked towards her, the wintry atmosphere wasn't the only thing that felt extremely cold, it was her. The smile on her lips and the gleam in her eyes were different.
"What's wrong?" I asked, taking a step forward. She didn't know, but it terrified me. She didn't answer and she just looked down. Taylor almost always answers. The occasions when she wouldn't. . . there's always something wrong. "Tay, come on, you can tell me." I tried to make my voice sound comforting and gentle but it was an art only she perfected.
Taylor looked up at me, and I froze where I stood as a shot of chill was blasted down my spine. Her eyes brimming with tears and I didn't know why.
"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked her once more, feeling my heart beat louder, feeling the pain of not knowing what she is going through.
"I'm sorry," she finally spoke, the softness of it breaking my barriers.
My knees felt weak but I ignored it. I held her cheeks, "Hey, hey, look at me. Tay, whatever it is, you can tell me, Tay."
She shook her head, her tears burning like acid against my hands. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Harry. I didn't -" she shut her eyes.
"What's going on?" I asked, feeling like I've done something wrong and I don't know what it was. All that's running around my head is the question as to what I did to hurt her.
"We're done."
There was a loud ring that made me lose my voice and heartbeat. Two words broke my soul into shards. "What?" I asked the sounds barely coming out of my throat. I didn't even realised how my hands are now loose at my sides. I was just staring at Taylor. I swallowed. "T-Tay, you're - you're joking, right?"
She didn't answer.
"Taylor, come on. Y-You - hey. . ." I started blinking back the tears once I realised she was never going to look at me directly, that she was never going to answer my question. "What did I do?" I asked. I'm still trying to remember what I did, what could be the reason why. "Tay, come on. I can fix it. Please."
She shook her again, continuously crying and I badly wanted her to stop. I needed to talk to her, about everything that's suddenly happening and yet I felt like she was standing on the edge of the world where she couldn't even hear just the slightest of my pleas. I want her to listen and answer. I want her to tell me where I went wrong so I could fix it.
"Tay?" I asked faintly, my tears starting to fight their way out. I needed her answer, the slightest response to tell me why. "Tay come on, just tell me."
"I can't," she replied very softly. "We're done." Why is she saying these things? What did I do? Another chill ran down my spine once she took a step back, and another. Her steps were slow, one, two. . . closer to being further from me, her eyes only at the ground because she cannot give me a reason why. She can't go. Not like that!
"Tay, answer me, please."
"I'm sorry," she repeated as soft as ever. And then. . . she was gone.
I stood there, barely believing what I saw. I wish I could say I ran after her but I've lost every amount of energy left in me. I was drained clean from all the strength I had. My throat felt burning hot and my knees weak. I shut my eyes tightly, squeezing out the tears that dried themselves off.
"Wake up, Harry," I told myself. "Wake up. Wake up. Wake up." I groaned because it didn't work. This is just a dream, Harry. . . just a dream. Wake up and she'll be in your arms. Wake up and this never happened. It's just a dream.
But it wasn't.
What did I do? I wished she'd just told me what I did or where I went wrong. I would have done something.
I drove home, my brain as blank as an empty sheet of paper. All I remembered was a pattern, road, steering wheel, road, window. . . and trying to think of where I made a mistake. Was it the times I came home from the pub? Was it the times I'd run across my exes? Was it the times I talked to other girls? I never dared to cheat on Taylor, my exes meant nothing already. I bit my lip, hitting my palms against the steering wheel. One, two, three. . . One, two- I didn't count anymore. I kept doing it until my hands were burning red.
"What did you do?" I asked myself, hitting my head on the wheel. I wish I could say I remember but I don't.
When I got home, I walked pass the silent shelves. No one is here, the shop is closed on Thursdays. I sat on the floor, my back against the counter, the back of my head colliding against it every once in a while.
I listened to my heartbeat as it slowed down and flowed normally, the rhythm almost at the same rate as my head on the counter. I took deep breaths, repeating the last things she said and asking myself what I did to push her to do this. I still don't know.
I can't do this.
I took my phone out and dialled Cara's number. She might be busy, it got sent to voicemail. I took a deep breath, "Hey, call me back." Then I ended it right there. Franco wouldn't be a comfort, no one else would be. . . just Cara.
It was hours later when she called me back. Those were dull hours of listening to the clock as it ticked. "She said 'no'?" She asked immediately.
"Contrary," I said.
Cara gasped. "She said 'yes'?"
"No."
"Then what -"
I licked my lips and took another deep breath. "I didn't get to ask her." I was never even close to it. "And we broke up," I said.
"What? Why?"
Half of my lips pulled up a bit, it might have looked like a smile but I wasn't in the right mood to be all smiley and cheerful. "I'm asking myself the same question."
Cara cursed under her breath yet I heard it loud and clear. "Do you want me to come?"
I shook my head though I know she can't see that. "No. I just needed to hear something familiar."
"Babe, I'll come if you want me to. This is bad. This is actually shit so -"
"It's fine," I said, taking another deep breath right after. "I'll just rest for now. I've had a long day." I rubbed my eyes right after.
"Do you want me to talk to her?" She offered.
"No, I'll do it tomorrow. Thanks Cars."
"It's just jitters," Cara said in attempt to comfort me. "Cold feet or something like that. Taylor will be back to her senses soon, don't worry."
"Yeah." I ended the call because I've nothing else to say. I know she's running out as well so it was a better decision at the time. I tossed my phone to the ground, letting it bounce off anywhere it wants to.
What did you do, Harry? What slipped your memory? How did you push Taylor into this? Soft thuds filled my head as the back of my head hits the counter, more than a few times a minute. I'm stil asking myself the same questions.
I had a sleepless night, I vaguely recall what I did. It was like watching an old film with no sound, pictures flashing with no colour. It was dull and boring yet it wasn't meaningless. . . it was just gloomy. The next morning, right after drinking a cup of coffee, I drove ahead to her apartment, she wasn't there, I searched everywhere. Cara won't be in her flat as well so I drove to the Gleesons.
I waited at their door and Krizzle was the one to open.
"Oh, hi, Harry. What's up?" She asked cheerfully and right then I sensed that Taylor might have kept it secret.
"Is your Taylor home?" I asked.
She shrugged. "Nope. She lives with you, doesn't she?"
I ignored the question and asked something else. . . "Is your father here?"
"Yep, come in," she answered and opened the door. Later on, she led me through the chaos of the house I've gotten used to. I don't trip anymore, it was rare when I'd kick things out of the way but today turned grey so I couldn't see clearly.
Kriz led me to the living room where Mr. Gleeson is getting just fixing his tie to go to work. I must have went here too early but I needed to talk to them. Kriz left us so we could talk and Mr. Gleeson was his usual shelf.
"Oh. G'morning there, mate. What bring ye in the Gleeson Roger? Finest ship in -" he stopped once he must have felt that I haven't the heart to play along as a pirate today. My faint smile says it all. "Harry. Good Lord, what's wrong? Did Taylor decline?"
Of course, he knew about the proposal, I asked about it a month ago.
I shook my head. "I didn't ask her, sir. I just wanted to know when was the last time you talked to her."
Mr. Gleeson stared at me for a moment, eyes keenly observing and I made no change in my tired state. I was tired, I didn't do anything but I felt like I've lifted the weight of the world. The weariness was almost unbearable but I couldn't stand not knowing a thing.
"Taylor's fine, is she?" Mr. Gleeson asked and I nodded. I think she is. . . she was fine the last time I saw her. "Then, what's bothering you?"
"Did she ever mention - about me. . . d-doing something bad?" I asked, still not remembering a single mistake that could break her this bad. I swore it to myself that I would never break her. I think I did. . . but I didn't know how I did it.
"No. All we heard are good things about you," Mr. Gleeson answered and I nodded.
I gave him another faint smile. "Thanks, sir. I sh-should be going. Thank you."
What did you do? Harry, what did you do? Think about it!
I walked distractedly and drove the same. My frustration over not knowing a simple thing is swallowing me inside out. I tried to call Taylor, I needed to talk to her but she never showed herself. For a week, I kept coming back to her apartment, to the Gleesons, were she worked and every possible place she could be in but it was either she knew how to hide or I wasn't looking for her hard enough.
I kept the shop closed, I didn't want anyone walking in while I have this uncoloured mood. The silence was unbearable but it was what I needed. I didn't know what else to do. I begged for her family to tell me where she was but all of them would simply say they don't know.
Where the hell was she?!
I must have sent a hundred messages and a larger number of phone calls but they were all never returned. I was in the dilemma of feeling the heartbreak of her leaving me like that, feeling like no one is ever going to give me answers, feeling like the worst piece of shit for not knowing what hurt his girlfriend, and feeling like a worthless human being for not even knowing where Taylor was. I worry for her more than I worry for myself. It was pathetic and there I was, continuing the pathetic life.
Cara visited me some time around Wednesday, I never bothered to check and she came with the best remark. . . "You look like shit." She knelt in front of me as I was still seated on the floor with my back against the counter, something about me hurts though I couldn't tell where. That's what's wrong right? I couldn't tell what was going on. "Harry. You look like crap, you hear me? Snap the fuck out! Stand up!"
I wished her swearing per sentence will make me feel better but it didn't. She muttered something close to "Should've came sooner," before facing me. "What the hell really happened?"
Another deep breath. . . "Can't say what I don't know. She told me we're done."
She blinked. "Taylor? She j-just told you that. . . you two are done? Just like that?"
"Having trouble believing as well," I said.
"She couldn't - she didn't tell you why too. . . Shit," she said, never holding back on the profanity. "Where is she? I need to outright slap her."
I shut my eyes, "I don't know." If I knew, I wouldn't be here, I would be in my car, searching the edge of the world just to find her. "Forget it." I sighed again. "Dismiss it."
And then, that was her cue not to talk of it anymore.
"So what are you planning to do now?" She asked.
"I don't know."
Cara asked me for a night out, just drinks to ease me up but as soon as I got there, I asked her if I could just go home to rest so she went out with me as easy as that. She said if she didn't have work in the morning, she would have stayed around to keep me company but I told her it was okay.
"Look less shitty next time, okay?" She asked and I nodded. She kissed me on the forehead and hugged me, patting my back as well. "Night, babe."
"Night."
Cara was gone and I couldn't help but feel awful. Every hour creeping in, I felt a bit more miserable. I could feel madness sinking into my head. The weariness was numbing me out yet I also couldn't help but feel angry at Taylor. I hated this. I didn't know what I did and I wasn't given a chance to say something!
Three weeks after. . . at the most unexpected moment. . . , she came around.
It was another Thursday so no one else was in the shop apart from me. . . now her.
I wish she showed up earlier when all I wanted to do was hold her in my arms and tell her we can never be done, that I won't let her walk away. But it had been a lot of sleepless nights, my head ached and I was tired beyond redemption.
Still, I gave her a fake, faint smile. "Hey, love."
I walked towards her and she, to me. "Are you okay?" She asked.
I wished I could hear the concern. I wished I was open to hear it. I shut my eyes. "Yes." Then I opened them, observing. . . how she couldn't look me in the eyes, how her hands shook at her sides, how her voice faltered at the end of her question.
"Harry," she paused. . . "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have l-left just like that."
That's right, she shouldn't have.
"The past weeks had been rough and I didn't -"
It was the way she didn't look at me directly, it was the way she said it had been rough for her that took the toll, that triggered something. . . yet I held my tongue. Her past weeks had been rough?! Wow, shit! She never seemed to have considered what happened with me. . . while I was thinking of her the entire time.
I didn't hear what she said but I knew it was not an explanation.
"Why?" I asked her, splitting into a sentence I wasn't listening to. "Taylor, why?"
Taylor took a step back, her eyes looking like they're not even staring at me, they're staring at the space behind me. "I'm sorry. Okay? I can't explain."
Can't. . .
"Taylor, if you're going to break up with me, you might as well have one damn good reason!" I snapped. There it was. "I don't understand you."
"You can't," she replied, her voice fading. She looked guilty about something and it took a quick punch to my gut. A thought of mine felt worse like another punch to my dignity.
I felt a bitter taste in my mouth. . . "Is this about Scott?!" I yelled. I've been seeing him around, his presence was barely overlooked yet I never took much notice. . . not until now.
Taylor's eyes widened and she took another step back. Fuck. Wow. Should have seen it coming. "What? No! Scott had nothing-"
I don't care. I guess I've had enough and I'm done. "Tay?" I asked, my voice and soul breaking with every word. She stopped in what she was saying so I continued. . . "Can you just leave?"
"Harry. . ."
No. Never mind the explanation. I can't hear it now, I'm done with it. "Taylor, I'll ask you to please leave my shop before you see something you don't want to see."
She took another step back and it was almost parallel to that perfect December day. "I'm sorry."
The events after were slightly blurry even to my memory. After were the shelves, broken toys and pieces of shattered glass at my feet. . . just as much as broken as I was.
Then the next day I was leaving. I didn't care what I'd leave behind, I just wanted to leave. And Scott just had to turn up. But then he was telling me to take care of Taylor because he had no plans on taking her back. He bought a doll for her and said that was the last one.
Then I asked him why he broke up with Taylor and why he was confusing us the past year and then he said he had problems with his memory, some genetic disease I forgot to ask what. . .
He seemed nicer than I expected for him to be. And he seemed as much as broken as I was. I don't know why. "I can't ask you for something too much, it wouldn't be fair. I wouldn't ask you to let me have Taylor before I go."
I could barely breathe. The mention of her name, brings back the image of the soft-spoken girl who was the last person I expect to hurt me this way. Tears brimmed up to my eyes, but I'd never give into it, not now. Shit, crying isn't an option.
"What are you going to ask for?" I swallowed harshly, feeling some sort of creature gnawing on my gut.
Scott gave a forced smile, eyes quite near in tears as I am. "Just take care of her. I'm glad she found someone."
I nodded. "She just lost him."
That doll that he told me to give to Taylor, I left it at the Gleesons. It was the last time I ever saw them, her, New York and America. . . That was it.