* * * * * *
I was bored. No, I was beyond bored; I was starting to believe that paperwork would be more interesting. Thoughts in that class constitute insanity, not boredom. I'd successfully avoided him all night. Too many memories of similar parties placed themselves squarely between us, and for that I was both grateful and yet mortally wounded. I was sick of being haunted by the ghosts of my past, the lost chances, the innuendos of so many nights that had never come to anything. I'd formulated an answer to Nikki's question. My feelings had been lying to me for days, and no, I was not still 'in love' him. I 'loved' him: past tense. I loved who he used to be, I loved what we used to have. In short, I loved the past but I was certainly not still 'in love' with him. Had I ever been 'in love' with him? Yes I had loved him, but was I 'in love' with him as I claimed to be or was it all just my imagination?
I conceded that I was attracted to him, emotionally and physically, and we were
best friends. It's a friendship that will never be the same, but is still
cherished because it taught me so much. He asked me to get down of the bridge
when I wanted to jump so many times. That friendship taught me that someone
would've cared if I'd jumped. That was something I needed to know. But was I
ever 'in love' with him? No, I was attracted to him and loved him but I never
gave myself the opportunity to be 'in love' with him. If I'd been more candid with
myself at the time then maybe, but hindsight 20/20 and reminiscence don't add
up to 'in love'.
I sighed.
Then again, I had admitted to myself I was in love with him a very long time ago now. Sydney. How long was it? Seven years? Yes, I had convinced myself I was in love with him then, and I was. That night was another night in my many collections of nights that had been a complete disaster for us. The cruise of the Titanic would've been easier than that stupid dally in Sydney Harbour. I had grossly miscalculated the mutual affection between us obviously, because the reaction I was afforded was definitely not the love you, need you, want you I had expected. Ok, hoped for- because realistically I had known that was expecting too much. Still, I'd been crushed, absolutely torn apart over it. Mic had been a great distraction from all that. And yes, there was this primitive girlie part of me that had hoped he would be jealous, and realise that he would lose me if he didn't fight for me. As I said, it was a primitive part, and I guess as women we do have a damsel-in-distress in all of us. (But I'll deny it in court.) I'll blame it on the fact that I was told stories of princes rescuing princesses from the time I was a child. So I had agreed to marry a man I was not in love with whilst nursing a seriously broken heart and dealing with a damaged friendship because of the afore mentioned evils. So maybe I was 'in love' with him once, and I had never stopped loving him after Sydney, but I'd realised that he was never going to be 'in love' with me.
I'd done all this thinking to reach such a depressing and confusing conclusion. My feelings consistently lied to me. Who truly knew how I felt at any given time? I caught sight of him from across the room. Holding my breath for a moment, I reserved the right to change my mind about my former decision.
"Just because you're not and probably never were in love, doesn't mean you can't fall in love with him," I informed myself quietly.
Now that was an interesting angle. Why would I fall in love with him after everything that had happened? Was I still holding onto an age-old idea that I'd been trying to let go of for five years? Or was I trying to make something wrong right? The regrets I'd been trying so hard to keep at bay made themselves known very loudly.
There was another possibility that I tried not to consider to carefully: was I actually, just honesty falling in love with him? Did it have nothing to do with our history, and more to do with getting to know each other again? Hell, he'd said it himself: people change. Had we changed that much? Really, were we different people than we used to me? And the most devastating question of all: were we that different that we could finally figure out how to be together and be in love?
I didn't want to know the answer to that question. Like all the other important questions of our relationship, I was scared witless of the answer.
I sighed again.
Confusion. Emotions, why bother? Every time I figured out I felt how I felt
changed. The sense in spending an entire lifetime trying to trace a constantly
changing element of existence was not apparent to me.
I stopped thinking and started watching him from across the room again, vaguely recognising the music playing from somewhere.
I know you think that I shouldn't still love you
Or tell you that
But if I didn't say it
Well I'd still have felt it
Where's the sense in that?
I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder
Or return to where we were
I hated it when lyrics from songs reminded me I was feeling something I didn't want to be feeling. Catching me staring, he began to walk over to me.
But I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my arms up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love
And always will be
"Hey," he said to me apprehensively.
"Hey," I echoed quietly.
"Are you Ok?"
"Yeah."
Silence apart from the annoyingly beautiful song with poignant lyrics.
I know I left too much mess and destruction
To come back again
And I caused
nothing but trouble
I understand if you can't talk to me again
And if you live by rules that it's over
Then I'm sure that that makes sense
"Mac, I'm sorry."
"Yeah. Me too."
More silence.
I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my arms up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love
And always will be
"I'm sorry," he repeated, "I know that doesn't mean you've forgiven me, but will you?"
"Will I what?"
"Forgive me."
"I could ask you the same question."
And when we meet
Which I'm sure we will
All of this pain
Will be there still
I'll let it pass
And hold my tongue
And you will think
That I've moved on
"Mac, I, you- look it was five years ago."
"That doesn't mean you've forgiven me."
"No," he agreed, "But what's past is past, and we can't change that, no matter how much we regret it."
"Who said I regretted anything?"
"Do you?"
"What?"
"Regret leaving?"
I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my arms up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love
And always will be
"Yes," I answered honestly, "But I often wonder what would've happened if I'd stayed. Would we be at this point now anyway?"
"Where is this point?"
"The end."
"Really?"
"I think so."
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
"Where is there to go from here?"
"I don't know," he replied, "I guess it's double or nothing."
"Two times zero is still zero."
"You think we haven't got something?"
"We had something five years ago."
"And now?"
"We let it get away."
"I've never known a Marine to admit defeat," he said.
End our bitter exchange of words.
He walked away.
I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my arms up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love
And always will be
He was right. Marines never surrender. Semper Fi meant always faithful. I intended to be always faithful. If that entailed waiting for the rest of my life, then so be it. I did and would always love him. Forever.
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