Parts

Part I: The Way It Should Have Been

In all the time we spent together - days exploring dusty, second hand book stores, hours you left nothing of yourself behind for remembrance. Not a single rose from celebratory bouquets, no packet of love letters tied with a silken ribbon, no tattered, favorite shirts infused with your scent, no CD with our song, to play on “repeat” as I mourned our loss.

I see you, the way you were that last evening: casual gray suit, hair slicked back, the warm spice of your cologne wafting over my skin; the sun beginning to set as our dinners cooled on the table. Without a word, you extended your hand, translucent blue eyes asking me to dance. You led me to the stone dance floor and I knew...this was our last dance.

We began to sway with the music's melancholy blues, the air icing my skin - I wore a gauzy, summer dress even though it was early fall. Tears began to run: raging, endless, pouring down my face, soaking your shirt. You pulled me closer - so close, your body heat became my own - waltzed me around gently as if you were afraid squeezing too tightly would shatter my bones, the way your words had shattered my heart.

I wanted was for that song to play forever, locking us in the moment, capturing us in each others arms. I knew you would leave when the music ended, my tears and broken spirit - too much for you to handle. A soft kiss to the forehead, a few words of kindness and you were gone. You didn't want harsh words or confrontation, but rather a friendship that carried beyond the pain; you didn't know the confrontation, the hurt and the hate would come later, with or without your tacit approval.

Part II: Wishful Conversing

She: I hate you.

He: Thank you.

She: I mean it, I really hate you. I wish you were dead.

He: Isn't that a little dramatic?

She: For ripping out my heart and stomping it all to hell? I don't think so.

He: Fine. Whatever.

She: Fuck you. You don't even care.

He: Of course I care.

She: Yeah right. I'm overwhelmed by your display of emotion. How can you say you love someone, then stop a week later? You never really cared about me in the first place.

He: Of course I did, I still do and I'm sorry I hurt you... truly sorry. That was never my intention.

She: Gee, that just makes it all better doesn't it?

He: I still care about you. You're a great person.

She: Oh fuck you!

He: What?

She: “ I don't want you, but you're a great person.”

He: That's not what I meant.

She: Okay, then what did you mean?

He: I just meant that you're a wonderful girl and whomever you end up with will be a very lucky guy.

She: God I hate you!

He: I'm sorry.

She: Fuck you.

Part III

It happens quietly, so you don't even notice at first. You're “in love” and terrified of losing that person, so you start subverting small parts of yourself, thinking: Maybe my opinion was wrong. You tell yourself you're just trying to be more open minded; more accepting - after all, true love is unconditional; never considering whether you're trying to be more “open” or, if you're trying to convince yourself that what they want is what you want too.

Disagreements, issues that start out small, quickly become bigger: you don't practice the “right” religion, you're too shy, too loud, too aggressive, not aggressive enough; they don't like your new haircut or your old friends, and soon it seems choice you make is met with criticism. You think - you know - this relationship is a mistake.

I want someone who loves and accepts me as is; why do they want me to change? What's wrong with me? When did I stop being good enough? I should leave - now ...but I love them so much. Maybe they're right, it's me - it has to be me. I just need to be better, then everything will be all right; all our problems will go away and I'll be safe...they won't leave me.

Now, it's bad; you've bought the goods and given them the key to the storeroom. Soon you're telling yourself: The truth is, I don't believe strongly enough in anything to chose one side or another, but since it matters so much to them, they can choose for both of us . And along you go: a hamster running it's wheel, doing everything to progress while in reality, getting nowhere.

What you don't realize, is that you've stopped being yourself and doing this is causing unhappiness, anger, and resentment to build into a stockpile of depression. Soon, there's an ocean's distance between you and your lover, but you won't see it until the day they say: “I don't love you anymore.”