I Was Just Trying, Is All...

I left Megan at J&K Restaurant with watery eyes today. The last thing I ever wanted to do if I could. If I could. Only at this time, I couldn’t. I wasn’t being selfish when I looked right at her and claimed that she never cared about my feelings all those while we were together. I wasn’t being selfish. I was just trying to tell her how much in this world her present means so very much that I could and would not traded it for even mountains of gold. I wanted her to see it. To see that even when she says I will find someone, someone who deserves me better than her, even if I could, I could find someone, I don’t want to. Because I wanted her to be the only one. Yes, I am a pathetic ‘ol guy, desperate, hopeless, feeble, dismal, whatever. But walk in my shoe, and you’ll know how desperate are you.

Over a year since we officially broke up, and I still haven’t completely recovered from it. Call me Pathetic if you like. But as anyone, how should I prepare myself when it’s coming at me; how should I know?

Of course, when she said her very smooth version of goodbye, I began to try to accept it, day by day by day by day, and by day. It takes a lot of me to do it. A lot of help from the inside of myself. She said it wasn’t because the love has gone; she only needed to find herself. She needed to be alone for a little while; we had been together waaay too long. And yeah, maybe she had found herself and had achieved that ‘a little while’ time. Which is why after over a year we broke up and half a year I haven’t heard a word from her, last week, I saw her with this one guy who had once caused her to call off our relationship once before. She was with that guy across the side of the road while I was there at the other side, looking at them blink-less, speechless, torn. They’re not holding hands, cuddling, share the same drink, not, okay. But it strike me like hell because it was this guy. I have problems with this guy, yes. Big problems.

Megan wasn’t the type of girl that switches partner every now and then, and it wasn’t easy for her to get close to guys; this one I know that much after being with her over seven years. She was my first, and I was her first. Only that after the present of that guy, I only knew I wasn’t really her first. Maybe I am the first according to time. But the first standing tall in her heart.... not me. God, it was this guy. Ian, his name is.

Why would I say Ian is? Because for six, I repeat, six years, of our relationship (at that time), she never cheated on me with the other guy, not until she met this god-gifted-and-godly-heaven (?) Ian about three and a half years ago. The first time we broke up it was obvious that it was because of Ian, though in the beginning she denied it a thousands time. But it was okay, because after this Ian stepped back from all the chaos taking himself away, and Megan and I tried to work it out once again, life went on.

But it didn’t last very long; no longer than a year. Heaven knows it long before we broke up the second time (and maybe for all?) as Megan said ‘it wasn’t Ian this time’. I shouldn’t have believed that. It had always, always, been this Ian.

Before her mom died of a road accident about eight to nine months ago, I was told by a friend that Megan was back together with him, Ian. Torn and hopeless that I was, I still went to the funeral, saw her, hugged her comforts. Told her things will turn out right (though she wasn’t all that close to her mom). And then I knew that she wasn’t with Ian, at anytime. And I supposed I believed this one; that I saw she wasn’t talking much to Ian either through the funeral, though he was also there.

It was the story eight to nine months back. Months afterwards, when I tried to slowly lead my own way to surviving from her, with the thoughts that she really needs this goodbye to find her way back, I was getting there of surviving her. Until last week, just last week, when I saw her with Ian at the side of a road in the middle of a town. What’s that in her hand? Looks like they shopped together?..

Sure, so what if they shopped together, doesn’t mean a thing, you say. But I know Megan, and I know her that much to know it was different here with Ian. And if I saw her with Ian, that surely means something.

And though trying that hard to push that sight away, it kept coming back, and coming back, and coming back.

“It wasn’t Ian this time...” she says through my ears over and over without stops along with the sight of her and Ian at the side of the road that late afternoon. And then;

“Don’t think this like I’m leaving you. No one’s leaving anyone. I just needed a little while to myself.”

“Through time, you’ll find someone... and forget about me.”

And then there comes again this;

“It wasn’t Ian this time...”

“It wasn’t Ian this time...”

“It wasn’t Ian this time...”

That’s when I decided to dial her number (it still operates, okay) and asked to meet her. Along with Ian. I don’t know what was I thinking anyway, I just couldn’t think straight. Not then, not now.

J&K Restaurant that is, where we met. I arrived first; not much of my surprise. Who’s excited about this enough to arrive that early anyway? Not me either. And then there was Ian. Quite a time, huh, since I last saw him other than that funeral day. He was casual enough; only a pair of jeans and a white long-sleeve T-shirt with both the sleeves pulled up to his elbow. He sat in front of me at the table, offered me a shake before he sat. He got my shake. We weren’t saying much except for refusing the dark waiter-boy came for order, him asking me where I work now, and only few other things before Megan showed up. She straight away saw me as she entered the restaurant at the restaurant door. She came, and pulled the chair next to Ian.

“I’m sorry,” she said, referring to being late maybe.

And then she sat. She sat and there was silent.

Silent.

I don’t remember how and who makes the conversation start. All that was still so clear to me now is moments after that when I looked across the table to her and said;

“You know I couldn’t and won’t forget you even you give me forever.” My tone was flat. If I wasn’t looking at her, there might be a doubt of whom I was really saying that to. She was folding her hands, sitting her back against the chair. Her eyes were barely telling anything. She was just looking down to the table almost most of the time, if not ran her eyes away from our table. I wanted her to say something. That was why we’re here, wasn’t it?

The conversation wasn’t going very well either moments after that, and moments after the dark waiter-boy who came earlier came again to our table to take order. Ian asked for a milky shake (wonder how he could still drink something at times like that). He asked Megan and I; I quickly refused anything, while Megan ordered a glass of cold water. Need something to cool down the situation, huh, Meg?

Like I said, moments after the waiter-boy’s gone, the conversation wasn’t showing any difference. But minutes, and more minutes passed, it started to heating up a little bit. I couldn’t help but feeling a little tensed when thinking about all the sweet lies she poured me the day we broke up.

“I wasn’t lying, Mark..” she said. Her voice was slow. Her eyelids went shut for a flick of a few seconds.

“I’ve never lied to you, if you believed me now,” she said. Oh, she was so good. I almost fell to believing her again. Or was it true, after all, that she never lied to me?

“When I said that I need to find myself, I meant that. I’m still finding myself now,” she said. Her tone was clear; the gleam of her face was not.

“I told you it isn’t fair for you if we go on with the relationship.

(Her heart’s not in it)

“You’re a very great guy, maybe the most I’ve ever met.

(How about Ian? Isn’t he the greatest?)

“But like I said that day, I don’t deserve you, Mark. It’d be unfair if we stay together.

(Her heart’s not in it)

“I wanted you to have a chance to meet someone much better than me.” There’s sore I saw in her eyes. “All that, I meant them that much.”

And realized it or not, I was torn between her words. I was torn, and suddenly I realized that there goes Ian, sitting just in front of me across the table, shut (up) and sealed (ready for delivery, Mr. Posto).

“You said ‘it wasn’t Ian this time’ when we broke up a year ago,

(A year ago, God damn it, a year ago, let it go!)

“ ..and here he is now,” I said without thinking.

It felt like forever, yet there goes the waiter-boy again, just came with our drinks, me not included.

I saw Megan shook her head weak. Taking her time to answer that one?

Not. Instead, it was Ian saying, “It’s not our plan that we meet again, Mark.”

“I don’t know what you guys said to each other when you broke up, but I think what Megan tells you is what it really is. I haven’t seen her or in contact with her nearly a couple of years since that day, this, you have to believe.” Ian said. And when he said ‘that’ day, he probably meant the day he took the flight to Adelaide and never comeback, at least not that I knew of before a friend told me that he had come back nearly two years after.

“You said you need time to yourself, Megan. I still remember that pretty much clearly,” I said, as if not paying attention to what Ian said, pointing my eyes to Megan across the table instead. She wasn’t saying anything, just looking back at me in emptiness. She looked exhausted. Regret? I don’t know. It was just suddenly a deep part of me just wanted to point out all the faults that I could possibly see. God knows what the hell is wrong with me.

“I do need time to myself, Mark,” she said finally. Then she rubbed her forehead slowly with her fingers. Only that that I saw her fingers were trembling. They were, and God, Megan, I’m sorry.

(Yeah, you should be sorry.)

“I...” she paused for a few seconds. “I wasn’t lying to you about all the reasons I was breaking up with you, if that’s what you thought. And it still wasn’t because of Ian.”

Then there was silent again. And after some time, she said, “I never with Ian. Never with anyone after you.”

And there goes the silent again. And then the silent. And the silent. The silent. Silent. Silent. And in the silent I thought to myself, it was all Ian all the way.

“I never planned to see Megan again...” suddenly Ian said, breaking the silent that had started crawling up my spine like hands reaching up to squeeze my head and my brain to death.

Or maybe after all, the evil of death had come that certain moment. Because when Ian said he never planned to see Megan again, I saw his very face and thought that that face was actually trying to tell me it wasn’t his plan to see Megan, but destiny had brought them back together. Crap! —And that very moment suddenly I felt so much anger in me and as if, yes, this evil of death had taken over my body.

But I smiled anyway despite of the anger that had started to make room inside of me. “So Ian, has those two years away and back again here changed anything upon your feelings about Megan?” I asked him. I threw Megan a glance when I said her name. She was putting her head down and if I did not mistakenly see, she was shaking her head softly.

Ian did not say anything right away. He looked sharp at me unblinking for a moment or two. His eyes were deep. I couldn’t really tell what they were saying. He bit his lower lips and his eyes were on the table now. Like he could see right through it. His both hands were on the table, and maybe without him realizing it himself, the left one was making this tapping sound that irritated me. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I remember the last time I asked him about almost the same question was the very last time I met him before he was gone to Adelaide two years ago. That was when I decided to confront him when Megan told me the relationship doesn’t worth the go anymore, after the distance grew slowly wider between me and Megan. The question which got him finally taking himself away from the country. But as two years ago, it seemed very hard for him to answer that one simple question huh.

He did not answer the question after a few more moments lingered on.

And his fingers were still making that sound. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“No,” he said finally.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“I’m sorry, Mark,” he said. “But to be complete honest with you and with myself, no.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“I— I can’t,” he shook his head. And at that very moment I felt that the evil of death that had taken over my body earlier had put on a fire over that statement that he made.

Then he looked at me with such a look that meant to tell me everything yet I got nothing.

And there’s the— Tap. Tap. Tap.

“I think even I want to let go, they just won’t want to let go. The feelings,” he said, and what was that about? I felt like the flame of my fire had gone bigger. What was he saying anyway?

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Oh, okay, so now you’re telling me you really have something real strong for Megan despite your version of denial two years ago?

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You persuaded her, talk her out her relationship with me two years ago, pretending to be away for freaking two years, then came back, and blame it on destiny? Whole loads of tripe, Mr. God-gifted-Ian.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“I guess what I have for Megan was just so strong that ...” —And that was enough! I felt burned already all over my body that I grabbed his shirt instantly and punch him in the face with my bare fingers before realizing myself what had I actually done.

He was thrown aback and landed on the floor with the chair he sat in with such a hit. At that moment I knew we were the stars in the room; every single eyes were on us, thank you very much.

And Megan, I guess she was more than surprised seeing what happened that she stood up and cried out my name. Of course, not only with what happened, but with me, the quite and naïve Mark doing the thing he’s far from doing in his so-called naïve-days.

“You wanted me to find someone, no, Megan, I won’t find anyone,” I said on that table with both of us standing. To hell with Ian, I didn’t know; I didn’t even offer him a glance. “I don’t want to find anyone,” I said. Her eyes were on me. Empty. Far away they seemed. Sore? Burning? Hurt? I don’t know.

“Years from now I may just be anyone to you, but for me, you’ll always be my only one,” I said.

(Pathetic. Pathetic. Worn out the plastic. )

“But all those while you never really cared about what I felt, did you, Megan?” I asked her. She looked at me with that same look; distance and far away it seemed. Sore? I still don’t know.

“You never really cared if I was even there,” I said slowly, and she ran her eyes down to the table when I said this. At that moment Ian was already at his feet. Rubbing the corner of his mouth with his thumb, and there was the smooth red stain that he wiped from his mouth. I had made the blood came out his mouth. Great. None that I planned. I shook my head softly. Not knowing who was the person inside me that very moment. But knowing I had no business left there after all that I left the table. And suddenly things slowly put into place when I caught the watery eyes on Megan’s face as I left the table. And the stupid applause from one corner of the restaurant didn’t help at all.

I sat for a long time when I got in my car meters away from the restaurant. Not long after I left, I saw Megan and Ian were out from the restaurant. She was telling him something in front of the restaurant. Her face was tense, and I shook my head again. After saying something to Ian, I saw she left him standing there in front of the restaurant with God-knows-what-feelings. I saw her car leaving, and after some time Ian’s. So then there I was, sitting in my car, feeling so stupid and dumb for what had I done; for what had everything turned out.

In the end; I got nothing!

Suddenly I felt so angry with myself at that exact split second that I turned the engine on quickly, and push the car into speed that I almost knocked down a boy at the edge of the road.

What was I thinking doing this? That she will get back with me? That I could tell her how much I loved her and she sympathize me? That I could tell Ian to buck off? Oh, God, what? I don’t know.

And by that, I know I’ll never recover from this. Never.




-THE END-



Written by:

diabolique