I Meant More Like a Relapse

A story about a young couple that lose their love.

She closed her eyes as he stroked her shoulder. He was finally back to her. Even if she had begged him in every single way short of falling on her knees (that actually came later on), he was back and that’s what mannered. What’s pride in place of love?

“I’m so glad you’re back,” she said. She had to. Her heart was bursting with the love and memories that had held her steady through all the pain that was endured, all the perceived hopelessness. She waited for his answer.

“I know,” was what he said. She waited longer, but he didn’t say anything more. She took the answer, it was all she could. 

Suddenly, as if to prevent her from thinking, he was kissing her. His mouth was a force on hers, passionate, but with no longing. Her lips searched for more, hoped for more. She wanted a different response, if not from the words that came from his lips, then from the lips themselves. But there was nothing. She didn’t want to believe it.

He pulled away. He looked her right in the eyes, and again, she searched for something more in his gaze. She was always looking for more. It was too much pressure. How could he give more and more if she was always asking, always begging?

She couldn’t take it anymore, so she said, “What is it?”

He was mildly surprised. It wasn’t like her to question out loud. “What do you mean?”

She got emotional. “We’re finally here back together and I can tell that there’s something wrong.”

He didn’t answer. He never had an answer.

“I thought you were happy now, that we’re together,” she said, her voice tight. She could feel the tears welling up.

He still couldn’t answer. The silence was thick as lead.

“So all of that couldn’t save us? Why did you even let it happen? How could you take me like that again?”

He looked her square in the eye. It was time to face the truth of it all. Yes, he had taken her body and held her and loved her as he had used to so many times before. But what he knew, and what she would soon realize, that last time was what was left of their love.

“We can’t be together,” he started. “And we can’t fool ourselves into thinking that sex will make it all better.”

“But I love you!” She couldn’t take this.

“You will learn that this isn’t worth it. I’m not worth it. Please stop fooling yourself.”

She was angry. Fooling herself?! He was the one that was fooling her! 

“You said you would return to me!” The tears poured uncontrollably from her eyes in the way that had always crushed him. But it was no use.

“I did. But now I realize it was more of a relapse. We can’t do this anymore.”

He got up from the bed and started picking up his clothes. It would be the last time in this room, in front of her. They both knew it.

She couldn’t watch him, the tears were too much. But she knew he was leaving, and not just her apartment; he was leaving her life. And for some reason, she thought, it wasn’t so bad.

He got dressed fast and stood in front of her for a while. She wasn’t crying as hard. She thought he might say something more, but he was silent. So, as usual, she said something.

“It’s over.”

He didn’t answer. He never had an answer. Instead, he managed to kiss her forehead. She didn’t protest. And just like that, he was gone.

The click of the door knob echoed in the dark, quiet room. The sound was all that will ever be left of his presence; in her room and in her life.

And she thought, it wasn’t so bad.

Reviews

[John Christopher]

I don't know how I feel about the end line, "it wasn't so bad", because for the most part she seems pretty desperate to have his love throughout the piece. I don't think she would just accept his leaving. The emotion really comes through in this- you can feel how desperate she is, which I like. I think it is a sad story, but that it's very real. Good things :)

[Pressed and Prim]

oh thank you! yeah, I was thinking it was a weird change, but I was going for the feeling of perhaps resignation. thanks so much for the review!