Maybe I shouldn’t have contacted you, the first time I did…
It wasn’t a question, and certainly not an affirmation. He left the thought linger in the air between them, the only thing that separated them at that moment. He knew the words would hurt her. She had a cotton candy heart, and a simple drop of water, even one of her own tears, would pierce a hole right through it.
He couldn’t possibly recall the number of times he had asked himself if he had been wrong in reaching out for her that first night. He didn’t even quite remember why he had done so, back then. Curiousity? Perhaps, he was just bored, and in need of someone to connect with, briefly. No strings attached, no promises, no danger.
Looking back, he should have seen that she was trouble waiting to happen. Quiet, discreet and secretive, it now seemed obvious she had a little something that would eventually get him trapped in their push and pull game.
She was a spider woman. A carnivorous plant, and she had lured him slowly, giving him the impression he had always led the dance. She had her hands around the neck of his thoughts, and yet, when they met, she always looked straight into his eyes, with this totally inocent gaze. Not admitting to consiously playing with his feelings…
She wasn’t special. Not stunningly beautiful, not incredibly brilliant… But…
Many times, he had decided to swipe her out of his life. Putting away pictures, filling his days not to hear the little voice in his head that called him back to the very thought of her. Ignoring her calls, not answering the fainting knocks on his front door. Closing the curtains, and recalling the many times she had driven him crazy with her childish fits and her annoying stubbornness.
The knocks eventually stopped, and the messages didn’t fill his voicemail anymore. But instead of enjoying the long sought for silence, he found himself feeling uneasy, everytime. He could sense her quiet pain, and doubt started to haunt him. Soon, the sound of her giggles would take him by surprise, in a corner of his mind. He would remember the scent of her perfume, when he’d press his nose in her curly hair as they used to dance.
And, just as if he had blackouts, he’d finally find himself back at her door, staring down at her, just as he was, just now.
Her large, dark eyes holding his gaze, not saying a word. Not leaning forward. Waiting.
And if they could erase her totally? He had asked himself. What if, I could totally forget her? He wondered if he could ever hurt her enough to make her want to forget him. He knew he couldn’t… She was too silly for that. She would probably take the hits, and suffer for years, knitting her days with whys and what ifs. She was just a romantic fool, gold digging every bit of hope she could put her long slim fingers on.
She slightly shivered, leaning on the door frame. Lost in his thoughts, he had forgotten the bitting coldness of the evening’s November breeze. She was clearly underdressed, but didn’t seem to want to get back in, even to get a coat. He could see the goosebumps on her bare forearms. He had to make his decision. Now.
He could either break her heart for good, and walk away in the night, or give them yet another chance.
Sighing out loudly, he took the step still keeping them apart. Already knowing he was making a mistake, he bent down and wrapped himself around her. She naturally nestled in his arms, her head resting on his chest.
Breaking free of his embrace, she backed up a step, and he remembered why… Why he always came back to her in the end. Her luminous smile was back, and her sparkling dark eyes were free of any held back trace of grudge. Seeing her happy was a drug he couldn’t resist.
I made some coffee… Would you care to share one?
He nodded, and followed as her bouncing curls entered the house, heading for the kitchen…
#NovemberNotes2017 – The Night We Met * Lord Huron