Tell me how it feels?
I kept on hearing his voice whispering to me, over and over again, the same phrase "tell me how it feels".
Him: you came
Her: you called
Him: I wasn't sure you would come.
Her: why not?
Him: you sounded hesitant on the phone.
Her: it has been a while.
Him: I'm sorry
Her: for what?
Him: not keeping in touch.
Her: I'm not asking for an explanation.
I walked into his house as we spoke and that familiar smell hit me, all sorts of memories coming back to me. Pine, whiskey and cigars. So like him. The smell would stay with me for days, after hours and hours of
Him: I'm glad you came
His voice took me out of the reverie, but really did nothing for the internal mess I had inside my head.
Her: why am I here again?
Him: I just want to talk.
Her: about what?
As we're talking we are moving towards the living room and I get a glimpse of the hallway that leads to the bedroom. My mind drifts, memories of all the things that happened there come back to me like a wave hitting the shore.
Him: are you listening?
Once more I force myself to pay attention to what he is saying, and I pray that he doesn't notice.
Her: I'm sorry, what where you saying.
Him: where are you?
We are standing in the middle of the living room and he is staring at me. His intent blue eyes piercing me.
Her: I'm here
Him: No you're not.
Her: I'm sorry, my mind is drifting.
Him: why don't we sit down.
We sit in the couch. Once more, my mind drifts, I can't stop it, there are too many things that bring the memories back, too many places that..
Him: you went away again. Is there something wrong?
Her: no, sorry. Nothing's wrong.
Him: You usually say that when you're avoiding.
Her: I don't avoid.
Him: and now you're lying.
Her: what did you want to talk about?
Him:us, what happened, before.
Him: the truth or can I lie?
Her: what then would be the purpose of making me come over?
I sound weary, but I really am not, I'm curious, I'm also a bit weary.
Him: so truth then.
Her: why bring it up now, why after all these years. Can't we just leave it the way it is?
Him: I wanted to talk to the only person that would really understand me.
I sit there and look at him. I'm trying to make sense out of his words all while fighting the impulse to give into him.
Her: You are married. Doesn't your wife understand you?
Him: not like you do.
Several seconds pass. Our eyes are locked. Somehow the inches that lay between us have become fewer. It dawns on me.
Her: she doesn't know, does she?
Him: know what?
Her: about me. about you. You haven't really showed her who you are.
He is silent and his gaze drops to his hands.
Her: talk to me, that is why you called me.
He is still silent, just looking at me, but there is something else, something he is not saying.
Her: what aren't you telling me?
Him: she is gone.
Him: last year.
He is silent again.
Her: please talk to me.
He comes even closer and our knees are touching. He takes my hands into his.
Her: I see.
In that moment I understand.
Him: I need you.
Her: I know.
Him: stay the night.
Her: I can't.
Him: please. I miss you.
Her: I know.
Him: will you stay?
HE is still holding my hands.
Her: You shouldn't have called.
Him: you could have stayed.
I stand up, not bearing the closeness between us.
Him: please don't run from me, not now.
My head is a mess, my heart is beating at 1000 beats per hour. I am fighting against myself. DO I leave or do I stay. And if I stay, will I be strong enough. I need to ask him. I don't want to make it worst for him but I need to ask.
Her: You ask me not to run now, but why did you run back then?
I hear him take a deep breath.
Him: I had responsibilities, I owed her a lot.
Him: It was real, you and I, it was very real. But I owed her a lot.
I feel something break inside of me. He answered the question without me even asking, he has always been able to read me, it come so easy to him.
He gets up from the couch and stands behind me..
Him: tell me how it feels..
Him: because you are the only one who can make me feel again. Please, tell me how it feels...