Another Sad Ending
“Sorry, I’m in love with someone else.” I said to Matt.
We sat there for quite a long time, both of us occupied with our own thoughts. I don’t know exactly when I became obsessed with counting the petals of the flowers I was picking. I glanced at him occasionally. He was staring at the fountain every time I did.
Our relationship was a losing battle anyway. A sinking ship. It was better to raise the white flag than get shot. Everybody might call me a coward, but heck, at least i’m alive. I don’t have to prove i’m brave by jumping off a fifteen-feet deep water when I don’t know how to swim. It’s not courage, it’s stupidity.
My butt was getting numb by sitting there on the bench forever. Yet, standing would mean closure. Honestly, I still didn’t want it to end. I was still grasping that last glint of hope that we could somehow fix this. But there was Matt beside me, the man of action, as rigid as the bench where we sat. i’d give up everything to know what’s on his mind that time. But I know I would never know.
Tears fell down. His tears, not mine. I waited for something to stir my feelings inside. Nothing happened. I didn’t cry. Perhaps, it was brought by one week of crying at night, and the nights before that. I was too tired of crying. Too exhausted of self-pity. Too drained of justifying his shortcomings. He was crying. His tears was flowing down his cheeks as if gravity became stronger that time. For the first time, he cried.
“You seemed to see a paranormal event,” he said. I didn’t realize that I stared at him too long. I was still surprised. He was really crying. I thought he was numb enough not to feel pain. I thought his eyes were just made to twinkle, to hypnotize, to smile. The tears looked weird on his face, like they should belong to somebody else.
Finally, I managed to look away. I saw the pool of petals below. Slowly, they were being dragged away by the wind. I wouldn’t know where they would go. The wind was like a powerful invisible thing deciding the petals’ fate. Surely, they wouldn’t be flowers again.
I stood up. He looked at me.
“Who’s the lucky guy?” he asked after sucking in a lungful of air.
“He was the Matt I’ve known before you came along.” I said with finality.
Then, I walked away. Determined not to look back. Telling myself that it’s over. Convincing myself that it’s the only way out of it. Yes, I’m in love with someone else, Matt. And that someone else is you.