Monday, September 14, 2009

It Was Love

It Was Love
Ofelia Crosby
September 21, 2009


How do you measure or gauge one’s love to another?

How do you know when it’s love?


He told himself that it wasn’t love the first time he kissed her. The moment his lips touched hers he felt a certain tinge of delight in his heart. He couldn’t explain it but decided that it wasn’t love; not even close.

Her heart leapt and rejoiced when his lips finally touched hers. She knew she’s in trouble because she had allowed herself to feel too much. It was love, she was sure.

It still wasn’t love when their friendship grew, he was sure of that. He would call her just to hear her voice. Her sense of humor was welcoming and she made him laugh. He would find himself laughing at her joke or comments. It was a friendship he welcomed wholeheartedly.

She hated guessing but decided to be contented with what she has with him. The attention he was giving her was an attestation that she is important to him. She loved him and that made her sad in a way. As much as she’d like to express her devotion to him, she decided to suppress it because she wasn’t sure if he, too, feels the same.

He wondered why he wasn’t uncomfortable when she gave her the “look.” The look that tells a man he’s loved. When she glanced his way and saw the twinkle in her eyes, his body shivered and yet he felt warm inside. No, he wasn’t confused; it wasn’t love. It was a natural reaction, that’s all!

Such joy she felt as he held her stare then smiled. Words weren’t essential when they looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity. The smile they shared assured them of their affection, she thought. She loved being in love with him and she was happy with that thought.

He liked her hair down. It crowned her face beautifully. It gave him pleasure to watch her tuck her hair impatiently every so often behind her ears, not aware of how much he wanted to do that himself; and when he did, he felt that it was his right to do so. Even then, he knew it wasn’t love.

She didn’t expect it. She shivered when he felt his fingers on her face as he put her hair behind her ear. She froze and didn’t know what to say, so she smiled. The glow she was radiating was something she couldn’t help. Love came and she was keeping it; even if it meant getting hurt. She loved him; nothing else mattered.

When they met he told her that he was engaged and will be married in six months. The time came to leave to fulfill his obligation to his fiancée. It was a promise he made to the woman he was going to marry, to her family and his. He couldn’t understand why he was the saddest person about to marry. He knew she’s been crying and it’s breaking his heart to pieces. It wasn’t love that’s doing this to him. It couldn’t be? He wasn’t supposed to love her but why, he asked, is it killing him to marry someone else and not her?

She put a brave face, smiled and said, “be happy.” The tears weren’t supposed to come. How she ended in his arms sobbing wasn’t planned; but, oh, how she welcomed the comfort being held by him. She might as well pour everything out, she said, but vowed never to tell him how she felt. She loved him too much and she didn’t want him to be responsible for how she felt. She was a grown woman; she could take care of herself.

A month and half passed since they saw each other last. He called her to tell her he was back. He couldn’t explain why he suddenly felt home upon hearing her voice. He had to see her. He had missed her and the only thing he wanted to do that moment was to hold her and kiss her. For the first time, he surrendered to his feelings and admitted he loved her. The realization, however, made him sad. He didn’t notice the tears on his face. He hadn’t wept for a long time; not over someone and definitely not over love.

She heard the doorbell rang and knew that it was him. Her hands were cold. She took a deep breath before opening the door. The smile on her face vanished when she saw him. “What’s wrong?” She asked, her voice nervous. He stared at her seriously. She wasn’t sure what happened but she was suddenly in his arms; him hugging her tightly close to him. He kissed her with such fervor that made her knees weak. No word was spoken. That night, love took over, its language was spoken.

Later, he said that he broke off his engagement; he broke up with his fiancée. It was a mutual decision, he said. She nodded and decided not to ask him questions. It wasn’t the time because she knew that he was hurt and confused. She loved him and she will take what he’s ready to give her.

It wasn’t love when he thought the worst of her. He believed lies told about her. Hell, he would take anything to relieve him from the trance he was in. His world seemed to revolve around her and he wasn’t comfortable about that. So, when the chance came to supposedly fix the problem, he took it! He chose to get angry at her and hoped that his feeling for her will go away. He has his reasons and he didn’t know how to deal with them.

She should be angry at him for choosing to go against her. It was love when she chose to forgive him then. It was the saddest moment of her life. She felt like a part of her died over and over. It was love when she decided to let go and to keep her distance; but she refused to do all that without confronting him. She mustered all her courage and went to see him. She was polite but precise. “I will not see you again but know that I never once thought of ever hurting you. Ever, because I love you.”

He was angry. Angry as hell! He’d never seen her hurt like that and it was he who did that to her. And yet, he thought that it was for the best. “It has to happen sooner or later,” he said. Once again he wept. He wept for a beautiful thing that will never be his.

She was sure that it wasn’t coincidence when the wife of his colleague happened to be in the same Café that she frequent the same time she was there. The woman doesn’t drink coffee; and the woman joined her without asking her.

“He’s leaving for good,” the woman told her flatly.

She was speechless. The world seemed to stop from spinning.

“He didn’t have to tell me but you were the reason why he was miserable and he was leaving.” The woman added.

She couldn’t trust herself to speak so she let the woman talk.

“We knew he was going to marry his girlfriend back home and we all thought that he will come back with his new wife when he returned. He came back alone and announced that he wasn’t going to get married after all.” The woman held her hands and smiled sadly. “I’m sure you don’t know why he can’t be with you.” There was a moment of silence. “He has to give up his job for you. He cannot marry a foreigner.”

The shock brought back a conversation she’d had with him once. He told her that he was chosen among a thousand applicants for the job. He worked hard for it and was proud to have gotten it! He had just started the job when she met him.

The woman saw the realization on her face. “You don’t want him to give up what he worked for all his life, do you?” The woman asked rhetorically.

She shook her head, afraid that if she talked, it would give away the agony she was feeling. “You love him?” She wanted to believe that it was a question rather than a statement. Of course it showed that she’s in love with him. Even a blind man would know she loves him with all her heart. “He doesn’t love me. You have nothing to worry about,” she said, her voice firm; her pride on the edge.

The woman smiled knowingly and told her, “You don’t believe that. Of course he loves you.”

Sadly, she shook her head.

The woman understood. She was in pain and she hoped she could say something to comfort her. “He loves you enough not to give you hope.”

He knew it’s not fair for her not to hear from him that he was leaving. “I’d rather have her hate me,” he told himself. “I’ve nothing to offer her.” So, he packed that day wasn’t sure whether to breathe or die; his heart was heavy as he zipped his suitcase.

He heard someone came in and found her standing before him when he looked up. His heart pounded and felt like something was choking it to death. How he loved her...

“The door’s open,” she said, her voice soft.

His heart screamed out her name, beating fast, wanted to run to her. He reached for her hands and squeezed them tightly. “Why do you have to come?” He asked without looking at her.

She held his hands and whispered, “I love you. Don’t ever forget.”

He pulled her to him and squeezed her tight; couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to say, “I love you… I love you…” over and over until he could be free from it; but he did not and just held her to him. He let the tears burst from his eyes and cried with her. “Always,” he mumbled between sobs. “Always!”

Eleven years passed…

He still thought of her. He sometimes wished that he’d hear from her. There was no communication after that day he left. He could still vividly remember her face, her voice… how she cried, how she loved him. There was no one else for him but her. No one will ever love him like that. No one! She came into his life and he let her go. Sometimes he wondered if what he gave her up for was worth it. He had climbed the steps of success. He’d achieved a status of contentment and stability in life; everything he’d worked for and wanted. And for eleven years he’d woken up wanting her; thinking of her still. It’s not fair for his wife and children; that, he knew perfectly well.

There was always a smile on her face when she thought of him. She had moved on and learned to deal with her heartache. Time and distance helped her ease the pain. She, too, left shortly after he did. Eleven years was a long time but she kept her memories of him in her heart.

It was love when she let go of the past. It was love when she welcomed a new man in her heart. It was love, she’s sure, when she married him.

He smiles amidst the pain thinking of her happy and married. He wants to be that man she married, but knows how impossible that sounds. He loves her then, now, and forever.

She goes to bed with her husband with a smile on her face thinking how good fate was making things work for the better. She thinks of him still but knows that he belongs to the past; he has no place in her present and future.

She kisses her husband and whispers, “I love you.”

(Will still edit--- thanks.)

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