It was moving day, and he had begun removing things from the apartment. When I got home he wasn't there. I assume that he was at the drop-off point with a load of stuff. I sneered defiantly at the boxes as I walked through the living room as if they were some disgusting annoyance, a joke he had taken too far. Somewhere inside, I knew it was over, but my conscious mind maintained that this was still some sort of act on his part. That only fed my stubbornness--there was no way he was going to get me to change my mind or beg for him to stay. I was not going to cave.
I made myself a sandwich and curled up on the couch to watch TV. My cat came and lay beside me. She purred happily as I scratched her ears. I stared at the television screen, but I paid no attention to what was taking place. All I could think about was how I couldn�t believe he was taking his bluff so far. I knew he was a gambler, but this was ridiculous. I half believed that if I checked the stack of boxes they'd be empty or full of newspapers--only half believed. My pride and doubt kept me from touching any boxes.
My eyes drifted to a framed picture of the two of us on the wall. We made the perfect couple for all the right aesthetic reasons. We'd been together for nearly seven years, from our undergraduate years to my graduate school and his law school. I became a political analyst; he became a lawyer, working for many of the politicians I interviewed and analyzed. We had lived together for the two years since he'd graduated law school, two professionals sharing the same space and time. We were good for each other, and in the political world, your significant other could often make or break your image. Our images were set in the social circles of DC, another beautiful intelligent couple on their way to the top. Had it not been for that, our relationship most likely would have ended much earlier. Even after our seven years together, we'd never said the words �I love you� and had never spoken of marriage. That didn�t bother me. I wasn�t expecting it or pushing for it. In fact, I was comfortable with things the way they were, and he knew that, so why would he ask?
The screen door squeaked open, startling me. My heart skipped, but I portrayed a solid disinterest as he entered the house. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stop near the end of the couch. I felt his eyes staring at me, his mind whirling as he tried to figure me out and which card he should play next. I knew he wanted me to stop him, but I had no intention of doing so. He could continue this charade if he wanted, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of winning. Neither of us said a word, and after a moment, he began carrying his remaining items out of the house. I continued to stare at the television.
As he bustled back and forth, I started to get restless, so I pulled out my briefcase and picked up working on my questions for an interview I was to conduct the next day. Watching the latest news on CNN, I sprawled my work out over the coffee table, but my mind wandered�
"What do I need to do to get through to you, Madison?" He stared at her, eyes pleading. She sat in silence and turned to stare at the table in front of her. She drummed her fingertips nervously. She felt numb and couldn't answer any of his questions. They'd been at this conversation before, but somehow, they'd found ways to get around it. This time, she could hear the urgency in his voice. She knew something had to be said, but she didn't know what. There was something missing between them, and they both knew it. She just didn't realize that the problem was her.
He continued to gaze at her...waiting. It seemed like he'd been waiting forever for her. Though everything about them was perfect on a superficial level, he sometimes felt that it went no deeper than that. They lived the almost textbook-perfect political lives, and they played their parts perfectly. They were professionals, friends, lovers, but he so often felt that he was only scratching the surface with her, that he was truly alone. She only seemed to grow more distant as time went on, and he had no idea why. As they should have been growing closer and closer together, and even falling in love, they had almost become two strangers.
Love. What a funny thing. He had loved Madison from the time they'd met, but her fear of the word kept him from ever saying it. He knew if he did, he would not hear it back, for they were words she couldn't say.
But he was at his wit's end. He just couldn't go on in this one-sided relationship anymore. In seven years, her heart hadn't healed. Maybe he just wasn't the one who could mend it. Maybe he just couldn't be enough for her to risk falling in love again. He couldn�t pass up his whole life while he waited to find out, skirting around issues with her so that she could have her 'safe' relationship. Time was up.
"I don't know why you keep getting farther away from me, but I can't take it anymore." He paused, hoping for a reaction, but he received none. "I'm leaving."
She glanced up at his face, then back to her fingers. "You won't leave."
He threw his arms in the air in frustration. "When are you going to realize that this is for real, Maddie? These are our lives, and you're wasting them both."
"That's ridiculous." She stood up to walk out of the kitchen, but he hurried to stop her. As he grabbed her by her upper arms, she simply sighed with exasperation, dropping her shoulders. She turned her head away and rolled her eyes. Why did he have to do this? Why couldn't he just let things the way they were? Their relationship was fine the way it was. Why stir things up?
"I can't make you feel, and I've waited so many years for things to change, but the more I want you to, the farther away I feel you are� I can't sit around wasting my life knowing I'll never be enough for you."
Her eyes met his, and she gave her sincerest look. "But you are enough for me, Jeremy."
He shook his head. "I know I'm not what you need, or maybe I'm not helping you because I don't know how to deal with it. Either way, staying here isn't going to help you at all, and I'm not happy with the way things are."
She reached up and placed her arms around his neck. She played people so well, was downright manipulative, without ever even noticing. "Honey, you are everything I need. I don't know why you'd ever think otherwise." She leaned in to try to kiss him.
He pulled away. He'd been with her so long, he saw the way she played all the right moves to get her way. He knew she meant well, but it allowed her to play the upper hand at all times. "You're not going to fix things that easily this time. Things are finally going to change whether you want them to or not."
She removed her arms and put her hands on her hips. "Jeremy, you can't be serious." Now, she was getting angry.
So was he. "Why? Because it disrupts you and your perfect image? Because it's not what you want? You care more about your perfectly ordered life than you do about me."
�That's not true!" She shouted back.
�It is true, but you won't admit it. Hell, you don't even see it. I can't make you feel anything in here.� He pointed to her heart, then softened his tone sympathetically. "I want nothing more than to tell you I love you and hear you say it back, but you don't know how to say those words."
Tears welled in her eyes. She knew she couldn�t say it. "Jeremy, you know that's not fair. I just need more time."
He felt cold ignoring her tears, but he knew they weren't because she felt hurt, though she might even believe that she was. She was afraid of her life being shaken. "Madison, we've had seven years together. Seven years, and you still can't tell me you love me. You're afraid of being alone but not of losing me. You hide behind your excuses and your controls, but you never deal with these problems. How are you ever going to heal if you never address it? And how am I supposed to feel?" He stopped, waiting to see if she'd react.
She didn't deny his accusations. She didn't make any effort to reassure him. She simply reached up and rubbed a tear from her cheek. "You do whatever you need to do." Her pride held her in check.
Jeremy's heart sank. He knew there was nothing he could do but leave, as much as it would hurt him and as much as he'd rather stay and hold her. She was the kind of girl--intelligent, beautiful, charismatic, enchanting--that any man in his right mind would stay, if only to be in her presence. He felt a pain he had never known as he spoke. "I need to walk away from this. I need to let you go, and I can only hope that it will wake you up enough to break down your pride because I need you to need me, and I need you to stop hiding behind all these excuses and to start feeling something. Then maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to care about me as much as I care about you."
I could still hear his words echoing in my mind as I sat there, pretending to work. I wanted to say something. No, I wanted to shout. I wanted to jump up and grab him and tell him to stay. But I didn't. And I wouldn't. Even as I knew it, I couldn't do anything to change it.
"I'm all packed." He stood opposite me, and though I knew he was giving me a chance to change his mind, I maintained my interest in my papers and simply nodded. "I wrote my number down and stuck it on the fridge if you need me." Again, just a nod.
I just couldn't move. I couldn't look at him or hug him or shake his hand. I just needed him to leave. I bit my lip as I made scratched on the paper in front of me--only nodding.
Jeremy was willing to give her one more chance. Maybe just packing up was enough. Maybe she'd let it hit her, and she was ready to deal now. Maybe...
He sucked up his courage and walked into the living room where he sat working on something. "I'm all packed."
She just nodded. She didn't look at him or move or even show any emotion at all. How could this be? His heart was breaking as he stood waiting for her to respond.
"I wrote my number down and stuck it on the fridge if you need me." See? I have a number. This is really happening, Madison! Snap out of it!
He stood as long as he could handle it, and then he walked out the door, looking back to be sure she wasn�t coming after him. She wasn't. He got in the truck, but stopped once he put his hand in the ignition. He was afraid that was the last time they would ever be together. From here on out, they would see each other at public events and cocktail parties, but their relationship would only be professional. They'd nod, shake hands, and move on through the crowd. They would only grow apart, and it was his fault. He had let her go.
He laid his forehead against the steering wheel and cried.
I wished he would just walk out that door, but he stood there. What was he waiting for? I refused to budge. Then, he pushed the door open, and he left.
I wanted to look out the window and see if he was just waiting on the porch, but I couldn't give him the satisfaction. Instead, I went to the kitchen and pour a large glass of wine, taking a gulp so huge I nearly choked. I stood there for a while clearing my head and trying to put things together, but everything was just muddled together. There was his note on the refrigerator. It had a number. Looked like Georgetown. I shakily refilled my glass and returned to the living room, but I stopped when I saw the unlatched door. Slowly, I stepped forward. I don�t know what I expected to see, but I pulled it open. There was no vehicle there, only a porch, a sidewalk, and a curb. I turned around and went back to the couch. There sat that damned picture of us on the cabinet. I couldn't help myself. I went over, picked it up, and brought it back to my seat. I stared at him, at the eyes that could read into my soul, the smile that always drew one out of me, the hands that had held me for so long� Could he really be gone? Could this be the end? I wanted to refuse to believe it, but as I looked around the half-empty house we had shared for over three years, it started to sink in. Jeremy was gone. I had chased away the best thing in my life. The situation hit me, and I felt the world spinning. My pride collapsed, and all I could think of was how much I loved him.
And finally, I allowed myself to feel, and I cried.
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