He limped into my office, carrying something. My heart sped up, and I cursed myself for it. People who got close to him got hurt. People can never get close to him. I had a fantasy that he would let me in, that I would be different, that I was different. But fantasies are just for little children
I am foolish. Stupid. Falling for someone like him. I used to think I was smart, successful, the dean of medicine. But, he came crashing into my life, and, all that went downhill. I started flirting like a schoolgirl, and insensibly, it turned into something more. Now, I have to put up with him every day, never knowing, not caring. He cares for no one. I know, deep down, that there is a person who cares. Who feels compassion. But its hidden away, stuck in a deep precipice of fear. Fear to put himself out there. Afraid to get hurt.
This fear hurt everyone around him. Including me. Seeing him everyday, remaining lighthearted and teasing. Tolerating every whim, without ever truly showing him. I know I can't trust him with my heart. And yet he has it. I always swore I would only give my heart away to someone who would care for it, cherish it lovingly. And he doesn't even know he has it. He has the power to break me, with just one word, phrase, or body movement. And he doesn't even know it.
He needed something. As always. I watch his lips talking, remembering when they were pressed against mine, every movement in complete unison. Loving, sweet, they told me the darkest secrets of his inner beauty. They told me who he was, who he truly was. I fear I will never see that person again.
I granted his need. A little arguing of course, to make sure he has good reasons. But, I would always give him whatever he needed. Maybe, maybe someday, he'll give me what I need. He made some obscene comment about my clothing. I rolled my eyes, but inside I was pleased. Underneath the cover, torn up and pieced apart, there was a compliment. It was the only reason I always made sure my skirts were a little too tight, my shirts a little too low. It was indecent, I know. However, I need to get his attention.
This is the end of our conversing. I don't want him to go, I long for him to stay, with me. Long to feel his arms around me, his lips against mine once again. I need him to show me what's buried, what he hides. I need him to know that he can trust me. Again, I am struck by my stupidity. My idiocy. This will never amount to nothing. He doesn't know. He will never know. So I remain here, day after day, pining after someone who will never love me, who is afraid to love anyone. He leaves my office, once again, taking a piece of me with him. And he doesn't even know it.