The One Where I Spill My Guts
Chapter four
Continued from: 'T.O.W. The Bethesda Fountain'
By: Jana~
*****~*****
--I didn't announce my presence at first, I just watched the scene before me. Monica's back was to me, but by the look on Ross' face, something wasn't right.
God, I haven't seen Ross in what, three/four months?
At least four months. You broke his sister's heart, what did you expect?
Ross spotted me, and he seemed almost startled to see me, which was confusing to me. Then Monica turned around, and her face carried a similar expression.
Ross spoke my name, but it wasn't exactly a greeting, it was more like an acknowledgement of my presence.
"Hello, Ross," I said, but I was parched from running, so it came out strained.
My eyes left Ross and moved to Monica, noticing immediately, her red puffy eyes.
She's been crying.
I told you she was missing you.
Maybe that's not it. Maybe Ross just gave her bad news.
Could you be any denser?
She was staring right at me, and our eyes locked. She looked so sad, I wanted to gather her in my arms and hold her.
I took a step towards her, "You're crying." The words left my mouth before I had a chance to figure out what else to say, so I just stood there, waiting for her reaction.
She nodded, but didn't elaborate, even though it looked to me like she had something more to say.
I don't know what to say next. What do I say?
"Monica?" Ross asked, and I glanced at him out of my peripheral vision. "Should I--?"
"I'll be fine," Monica said with a nod, and Ross nodded in return.
"Alright. I'll see'ya later then." He stood and approached me, and for a brief moment, I thought he wanted to say something to me. But he didn't say anything. He just gave me an up-nod and left.
I focused on Monica again, her expression pained and concerned and- I just wasn't sure how to broach the subject.
What do I say to her?
Just tell her how you feel.
I can't just blurt it out. Maybe if we go for a walk first, to the park or something. Maybe then I won't feel so awkward.
Sure. Or maybe you're just looking to stall for time.
I ignored my inner voice. "Can we… go to the park maybe and talk?" I asked her, nervous as hell.
She seemed to struggle with her balance as she stood. "Alright."
--We walked out the door of the coffeehouse, on our way towards the park, and it instantly reminded me of when we were still dating. I had to physically stop myself from taking her hand in mine.
--It was unbearably silent as we entered the park, and I felt like I needed to say something, but I wasn't ready to spill my guts to her just yet, and I didn't know if small talk was permissible under the circumstances.
Permissible? Since when do you need permission to talk? Just say something.
Yeah, but, what? What do I say? Nice weather? Look, that guy is peeing on that tree? Hope we don't get mugged?
Out of those choices? I'd go with 'nice weather'.
I'll look lame.
You couldn't look any more lame than you already do. Just say something!
"Nice day. Weather wise."
"Yeah," she agreed, her tone of voice distant.
Yeah, that was lame. Should've gone with the guy peeing.
Gone with him?
Even my inner voice is sarcastic.
Then, I saw it. The Bethesda Fountain. Seeing it brought back a million memories, and I started to slow down.
It was then that I realized, "The last time I was here was with you. Six months ago. Two days before… I left."
She nodded. "I come here almost every day."
I stopped dead in my tracks, and she stopped when I did, turning to look at me. "Why?" I asked.
She shrugged, then walked away, and I stared after her, my curiosity peaked. She hugged herself as she headed for the fountain, and I struggled to convince myself that I could indeed, do this.
I can do this. I can tell her I'm still in love with her.
So, do it already.
When she turned to sit on the fountain's edge, I started to walk again, heading for the spot beside her, my hands in my pockets, my eyes avoiding hers as I quickly gave thought to what I was going to say to her.
I sat beside her, turning slightly to look up at the angel that sat atop the fountain, guarding over her visitors.
Her voice broke the silence. "You wanted to talk to me?"
I nodded, flicking at the water, then I wiped my hand on my pants before turning to face her, "Yeah, I wanted to talk to you."
This is it. I can do this.
That's yet to be seen.
"Chandler? Are you ok?" Monica asked me, and I smiled in response to her simple question.
Was I ok? I was about to find out if I would ever be ok again.
"I'm not sure yet," I replied, my vague answer causing those cute little worry lines to pop out on her forehead. "The answer to that question kind of depends on you."
"Me?"
I nodded, then took a deep breath.
Just say it.
"Monica, I'm still in love with you." She gasped, and I rushed on before I lost my nerve. "I've never stopped loving you, and I was-- I was stupid to leave. I think I was afraid of losing you, so it was like, beat you to the punch, ya'know?"
She just stared at me, and I could see tears forming in her eyes, threatening to fall.
"I know- I know, that's beyond stupid, but, I got scared. I think I was scared of losing you."
"You were scared of losing me, so, you left me?"
She sounds upset. Oh, God, this was a mistake.
Of course she's upset. What did you expect?
"Look, I know you're probably really upset with me, and I don't blame you. I'm really upset with me, too. But, these last six months, I've been miserable without you."
I could feel the tears coming, and part of me told me to fight them. Try to hold them back. Be a man. But another part of me told me not to care. It was too late anyway. I could feel them fall to my cheeks.
"I don't think I can live without you, Mon. And if you can forgive me, and if you can find it in your heart to take me back, it would make me the happiest man in all of New York. Hell, the world!"
I placed my hand over hers, and my heart raced faster.
"And if you take me back," I continued, "I will try my hardest each and every day to make you the happiest woman in all the world."
I looked at her intently, expectantly, waiting for her to say something. Anything. God, why wasn't she saying anything.
"Monica, please, say something."
"I have been wishing and praying, each and every day, since the day you left, for you to say those words to me. I would sit on this very spot," she poked the ledge of the fountain we were sitting on firmly, "And wish upon coin after coin, then toss them in, hoping that in doing so, you would come back to me."
She started to cry, and she pulled her hand away from mine to wipe the tears. My heart ached to gather her in my arms, comfort her, wipe her tears gently from her cheeks, but I held back. I didn't want to presume too much. I didn't want to upset her further.
"And now you're here, saying these words," she continued after a moment, "And, well, I just have one thing to say…"
TO BE CONTINUED…
