The silence between us stretched like frost covering the woods on the coldest night. Everything about our atmosphere felt like that, cold, silent, and dark. I waited for her to break it, to say something as she usually does but now. . . it did feel like three years changed too much.
If I'm being honest, all I want now is to know why.
"I was left hanging. I never had the explanation," I said. I just want to know. That's all I want.
"Didn't you read the letter?" She asked.
"After three years do you think I would have wanted a reminder?" I asked.
She shook her head. "I thought that after. . . three years - y-you would have gotten over it," she explained, voice as gentle as ever.
"I have," I said. "But was that fair? Sending a letter three years later and -"
"I thought you weren't serious about us," Taylor said, like I didn't show how serious I was. . . like I was not serious with her. Heck, she was one of the very few I took seriously and she was the only one I thought would really end up with me. But she didn't. "I thought you didn't lo-"
"I loved you," I told her, cutting her off the same way she did with me. I looked away and started walking so we could move on from the place. I gulped, my throat feeling harsher than it was earlier. I heard her footsteps coming in then I knew she was following. . . "I didn't tell you often but you could be a little stupid sometimes for not noticing the things I did to say that. I loved you, you never heard, never listened but I always made sure you felt that."
I faced her once more, taking a deep breath before I said, "I loved you. I loved you and I really did. Now, I don't remember why."
I wanted to say that. For a long time, I wanted it out of my head like piece of broken glass from my skin. I forgot that removing the shards hurt like hell and makes you bleed.
Taylor held herself from the very moment she walked in. She held her sunshine grace and talked to me with caution but with courage in doing so. She forgot all of those when her tears made their way out. All I saw were the tears that were falling and her constant biting of her lower lip as she stared at me.
Forget the shards. . . this hurt like hell.
"I loved you too," she whispered, her voice breaking, fading into almost nothing. She wiped her cheeks with a swift move of her arm, then saying, "I never forgot why I did."
I swallowed again, standing my ground while she's breaking in front of me. I'm doing nothing as she falls apart. I can't seem to do anything about that. Then, she did something I could never have expected.
Taylor took a step forward to me, hesitant but still daring in doing so. And I cautiously took a step back. I didn't want her close, I don't know why. . . I just didn't. I watched her carefully, feeling every second slowly tick by. Her tears fell and yet, she was still standing strong, making no noise as she took another step forward.
My eyes were against it, painted with the sign that said "Taylor, please don't." My foot was a step behind me because I wanted to back away.
I shivered, flinching ever so slightly but then feeling familiarity when she wrapped her arms around me. Her warmth covered me again, keeping me breathless and still between her arms. I didn't want her close. A second ago, I would have ran. . . and I didn't. I didn't want her this close and now, I don't her to be anywhere but this close.
I didn't move, I remained motionless with her arms around me this way. It was strange yet familiar in the same sense.
It was familiar. Her right arm was over my neck and her head was buried against my shoulder. It felt the same as the first time. And they say that in the end, you start thinking about the beginning. . . how it all started and how it ended this way.
How did we end up this way?
"I missed you, Harry," she said, softly. My shoulder was getting wet and I was sure it was because of her tears. I'd never admit it, or say it out loud. . . but my heart dropped at the thought. At one point of my life, I hated her, I hated her for doing this to me. I hated her for making me fall at her feet then leave me hanging right after. I hated her because I never got a good night's sleep after. I hated her because I was left without any explanation.
But, I loved her more than that. I loved her too much that I didn't want to see her going through the pain that she once brought me.
"I'm sorry," she apologised again and I had only one reply left.
"I'm sorry too."
Because I never got to be enough.
We stayed very still and the place was getting darker by the minute. Neither of us cared as we stayed there motionless in the middle of everything silent and painful.
"Bye, Harry."
Minutes later, her warmth left me and then she was just gone. . . again.
She walked away, her head bowed and her hands wiping her cheeks.
Shit.
I felt like shit letting her walk off crying again for the third time in my life. But then, she's not mine to keep anymore. She's no longer mine to hold back.
Still with no explanation.
I sighed. Things are blank again, Taylor's appearance was never something to clear up the air. In fact, if I was still that in love with her, I would have been confused beyond borders.
I drove home, mindlessly going through my habits like some zombie who just had the basic motor skills. Franco noticed, of course, he would. . . he's been observing me because this was all his fault. I never asked for him to talk to Taylor or anything. . . and he's done something.
We never ate at the same time and place during my stay at this flat. It was the first time he sat in front of me on the small table as I slowly ate my dinner, distracted by almost everything.
I watched him as he did, and he was watching me as well.
"So. . . you've seen her, huh?" He asked.
I nodded, continuing my dinner.
"And what did you two talk about?" He asked, seemingly curious.
"Not much," I answered, not really in the sharing mood today.
"Oh, shut the short-talk, Harold," he suddenly snapped as if I had done something wrong. "Sweet sunshine probably never got over you," he said.
I shook my head because I highly doubt that. I swallowed my food first before continuing, "She got over Scott, her boyfriend for seven years about seven months after. We've only been together for a year."
"Yeah? Why would she come here?"
"To give an explanation I never had," I replied casually and continued eating.
"Okay. I won't push you to the subject," he said and it was every bit relieving that he was silent for a few moments afterwards. I was already finished, I've even cleaned up my dishes when he continued his statement, "I'm just wondering why she left you."
I was wondering the same thing.
"I don't know," I answered. I've considered reading her letter, that might give me some information I needed but I wasn't entirely sure if I could take reading it now.
I left the letter right where it was, never bothering to give it a try. Every time I try to glance at the letter, I would only shake my head and move on to what I was doing. I can't read it now.
Surprisingly. . ., my sleep had ended up longer than I expected, there were no disruptions at all. Unfortunately, I woke up ten so, it really ended up to be a problem as I had to rush right after but after, it seemed to be going smoothly.
Franco visited around three and by that time, my hands both hurt as I've been stunned. . . slightly. I got grounded by a wire I forgot to look over to and then, out came disaster. I've stopped the fixings for about a moment.
"You okay, mate?" He asked, patting my back. "C told me about what happened."
"You have eyes on me?" I asked.
"Every set of eyes in this place is an eye on you," he replied. It sounds stalkish and oddly uneasing but I tried not to comment about it.
"Fine," I muttered. "Can I ask you a question?"
He nodded. "Sure. What is it?"
"Where is Taylor staying?" I asked.
He must have been taken aback because it took him more than a moment before he replied, "A hotel. . . I think she's going back home, though."
I nodded, "That's good."
"Why? You thinking of crashing to her hotel room, exclaiming how you much you still love her?" He asked.
I scoffed, slightly in disbelief of his sudden question. "No!" I ran a hand through my face, feeling really embarrassed for him. "Just thought it'd be a disaster if she stayed for days."
"Probably," he muttered. "Considering that you actually had no midnight wake-up thing last night, and Taylor went to her hotel room crying -"
"How'd you know she did?"
He smirked, "Saw it."
"You're coming off as a stalker," I commented. I started walking on ahead to the noisier part of the factory where the gears are larger and machinery are working twice as hard. Franco was yelling something already but that was my point, I didn't want to continue our conversation.
Franco eventually gave up and walked away so I was alone with the distracting noises and sights. For the first time in a long time, I gave myself permission to think of Taylor, her well-being, how her mind works. . . I never did understand her back then, I still don't understand her now. I never did understand how she just left me like that, I always thought it was something I did. . . for some reasons, I still do. The explanation is now the only thing I needed from her. After three years, time just killed everything I felt for her.
I watched the claws of the machine carry those dolls to the other stations, taking in the smell of the paint and smoke. I removed my glasses, hanging them on my collar and staring at how blurry things are.
Taylor once told me that she wanted to be someone's glasses, so that someone would look for her when she is lost, would never replace her even when she's gone. I used to be the one to do those, but then, it was a different matter.
It made me wonder why I fell in love with her in the first place. I wasn't sure how, I just did.
No matter how many years passed, she was still the confusing girl that had once walked into my shop because she was lost. That one girl who walked in on a rainy Thursday and ended up walking through my walls without a single drop of difficulty.
She was fascinating, she still is. . . only now, that's everything I could use to describe her.
✵✵✵✵
Later that evening, Franco told me that we're having a family dinner. I haven't joined the last one because he didn't so this time, he made me swear to come. . .so I told him I would.
"Great," he said with a wide grin. I stood up from the couch, slowly making my way to my desk as I've just thought of something I know I should have done the night before. Not the toys I've taken home and not sleeping, not yet. "Oh, and Harry. . .," he called so I turned my head to look at him. "Probably best if you really settle things down with Taylor. Meaning, her letter."
"I am," I said, pointing to the direction of my desk.
"Oh, right. . . Carry on."
I nodded, resuming my walk of torment as I went on ahead to my desk. When I took a seat, my eyes scanned the desk immediately, in search for the letter I tossed because I couldn't read it the night before. I wanted it settled, I wanted to know the answers I deserved to know.
Once I found it, there was a moment of debating, because I'd rather not know at times. . . but I have a feeling that I needed to know this. I opened it anyways. And then I started reading through the paper, slightly smudged and not as clean as I expected it to be. There were too much erasures, too many spaces as if it was a draft made by an undecided writer. . .
. . . Then I thought, it might be.
I started reading.
Harry.
Here I am, with an empty piece of paper and a cruelly confused mind. . . . . . . .
I'm just hoping you'll give me a chance to explain e venthough I can't do it personally.
It's been months since I left you there.
Those months of pacing and lying wide awake. I'm sorry.
I wanted to tell you. I tried. . . twice but. . . I wasn't good with words when I'm with you.
There were bits of crossed out words I couldn't make up off right after then I understood the ones next. . .
I'm sorry, for spending all that time with you and throwing it all away just like that. I couldn't tell you why..
I never told you, (but you're the only person in the world who)
With you, I was at loss for words.
I'm having trouble writing this as it is. I don't know why and how, but...... I was always tongue-tied with you.
I never realised she was. . .
I can't get my mind straight.
This is harder than I thought, actually...
Harry. . . . . . Never get it wrong, the year I had with you was the best I ever had.
BUT it was also my worst.
I saw how you were with other (girls) women and it always unsettled me. Being around you was a constant struggle of doubts and questions.
I realize that that was not your fault, it was mine. I didn't trust you like I said I did. . . .
Why would I do that to you? Why would I want to end something I really loved?
Harry, to be honest. . . I thought that somewhere along the way I wasn't really in love with you.
I paused reading, feeling a heavy pang on my chest. Somehow, I always believed that she loved me too but here she is, finally speaking out the truth that she thought it was otherwise.
That was wrong. I did love you and I still do. . . . . . I was just scared to admit that because
I thought you were never serious.. I was scared. You started acting like Scott did before he left me. And then I just had to (have) be an idiot that I (was) started being paranoid.
It was unfair for you.
And all the while you were having the worst times. . . . .
I'm still having trouble with the words.
No matter how much I sugarcoating it, it was wrong.
I can admit that it was my fault and I had no good reason.
I still feel that dilemma of being back and forth. The insecurity of having... (w) I'm still scared. And I'm sorry that I am.
I'm still so confused. And I didn't mean for all of this. . . . .
I left it unfinished. I left us unfinished.
I can't say anything else. I'm sorry.
~Taylor
I sighed as I finished reading the letter and I was still confused as I was before. . . maybe a lot more confused, no wonder she couldn't give this to me or say things personally. . . because she's confused and if she tried to explain it to me, I wouldn't understand.
"Franco," I called out quietly.
"Yep?" His immediate answer rung back.
"Do you have her number?" I asked because he probably knows everything about her at the moment.
"Whose?" He asked.
I swore under my breath. . . "Taylor's, who else?"
"Oh. . . right. I'll send."
Thank you. It was a matter of about half a minute when he sent me Taylor's number and I called her. We're done and I know that, there's just one last thing I needed, closure.
It rung for a few moments, and she answered it. . .
"Hello?" I wondered what time it was wherever in the world she was but she sounded a lot more sleepier than before. More or less five hours difference and it's just nine.
"Tay?"
"Harry," she said, sounding breathless.
"I read it," I said, skipping to the point without bothering the chances of small talk. I needed to talk to her and I need to do it now. Three years had been long enough.
"And?" She asked, her tone cautious as ever.
I took a deep breath, leaning back and knowing that sometime later, I might regret this. "I wished I read this earlier. . . I didn't fully understand it but I got your point." I swallowed, my voice was starting to sound hoarse like I've screamed my lungs out earlier though I didn't.
"It was stupid," she muttered. "I - was stupid. . ." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "What would you have said? If - If I've given it to you years ago."
I sighed. "I'm not Scott." That was the first thing that came to me. "I told you, if you ever became mine, I wouldn't let you go. But there had been a hidden statement after. . . it was not unless you want me to. You wanted me to."
I'll regret these words later.
"I wished you gave me a chance to change that. I wished I had a chance to keep you."
"I wished I did give you a chance," she replied silently. "But. . . now?" She asked again.
I licked my lips, changing the position of my feet and adjusting myself to sit straight because for some reasons, I was uncomfortable. "Now, all I want to do is wish you good luck."
"Yeah, you too."
The long silence stretched over, I could hear sharp breaths over the phone. I thought of the things I wanted to say, also thinking how this could be the last time I'll call her.
"For the record, we've called it off. We both did, okay?" I asked because even if she broke us up, I let her do it. "We called it off, Tay. Don't worry. I'm nothing but thankful of the times we had."
"Me too," she said. "You changed even my family in a nice way."
"That's the sad part about us falling apart, Tay," I started. I smiled just a bit but it is only to hold back the sad tone. "They got to be my family as well."
"I know. . . you deserve someone better, Harry. You really do," she replied. "Thanks for everything."
And thank you, for everything, Taylor Swift.
And then I said, "Bye, Tay. I loved you."
"I loved you too. . ."
It might be the first time we exchanged those three words, only in the different context as I should have said it to her every moment I could. I should have replied immediately. I should have thought out loud but I didn't.
And now, it's in the past. All the things that I should have said and all the things that I could have done. . . it's behind me now.
I loved her and we're done I couldn't accept it before and now I easily could. I loved her and we're done.