Unexpurgated Love. #4 - The Conclusion

Act 1 – The good bit.  “Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better”

The breeze had a different smell that day. Rain danced to the tunes as she raced past speed-breakers in third gear and laughed out loud. He realized what a perfect moment it was!

Then there was another day when they welcomed the night with a long walk. They discussed heels and bakeries, bitchy office colleagues and their banter, coffees by the lake, and the sangrias self-made.

He showed her the sparkling Venus in the sky. She looked out and just laughed. In sync with her smile, walking side by side at midnight through the hazy roads, he knew he loved her.

Act 2 – The Irony of Fate. “I say high, you say low. You say why and I say I don't know, oh no!”

What pasta do you like? Red Sauce. Fuck! You must love The Beatles & Pink Floyd ? Nah. I hate rock. Fuck! I love mushrooms, though. And Chainsmokers. Hate zucchinis and firmly believe the fact that bruschetta is better than garlic bread. Fuck!

Chocolates were probably one of the very few lucky things they both had a consensus about. But amidst all these flip-flops over the carte du jour – of food, music, and life, which were discussed and argued upon sometimes in a restaurant and sometimes on her room’s balcony, he relished the little joys of life.

Then there were his crazy days too. When he wished they both had at least one exclusive memory together. One that belonged to just the two of them and no one else. For no rhyme or reason, he just decided that learning a new foreign language together should be fun. And he would have one more language to tell her how he felt about her because all the languages he knew and spoke were just not enough to do that.

He picked up his phone and messaged her. "Let’s learn a new language together. French? No. OK, German? No. How about Greek? Fuck!"

Act 3 – The realization. “Yesterday love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday.”

That’s when he understood. It clicked. It was not misfortune that things turned out this way, nor was it a mere coincidence. Perhaps this is how it was always supposed to happen. It was fate having a cruel and merciless laugh. Thou shalt not get to have her. Thou shalt not be able to forget her as well. When she leaves, she will take a piece of you with her forever. And that missing piece of you with her inside, the shallowness of pain and melancholy will stay as is, just like those endless memories.

Even the most optimistic part of his soul just wanted and hoped that in all the time they knew each other, there would be that one moment, one tiny speck of time when a small part of her would actually love him. There wasn’t.

Act 4 – The final day.  “And when I awoke I was alone, this bird had flown. So I lit a fire, Isn't it good Norwegian wood?”

The weather decided to show up perfectly that day. As the cool breeze blew past them, waving the green grass along the way, he wondered how, in an alternate universe, things would end so differently. But not here. Not now. Unfortunately, this was not the reality he yearned for but had now gotten used to.

There were no getting lost in her. No mornings together either. Looking in to her eyes, yes, but not being able to read anything back from them.

She always wondered about the silences. "Why don’t you just speak out? At once?" A part inside him had a wry laugh, which somehow she could see. "Because it’s about all that I feel! And that doesn’t matter to you one bit."

He wanted to kiss her, a kiss she would have ultimately forgotten. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, a confession that eventually wouldn’t really matter. So he just embraced her, bid adieu, and walked out. She was the one going back, but he was the one leaving.

Somewhere along the way, the love was lost. From the very story about unexpurgated love.