"I think we've come to the end," I said, eyes moistening.
"I know," replied Stuart. And he did, before I'd even spoken the words.
Then I let myself cry on him, in the shambolic surrounds of his new garage room. I cried, not because we'd broken up, but because we'd never be able to create new shared moments. Why, on the verge of a split, do I always think of happy times that I can never have again? Of course I'd be happy again, but not with this permutation.
The fact is that I don't feel differently about him today compared to how I felt at the beginning. My change of heart is not a change of heart but a change on the leaderboard - logic is winning. Logic sees that the future holds nothing more for us and that if we continued on the plateau, I'd eventually feel burdened with the time I'd invested in our relationship.
The best action, then, was not to invest time in a relationship that didn't have a future. Whaddya know, my mother was right after all... and yet she wasn't. In being with Stuart I learnt so much - knowledge that, though intangible, remains an invaluable part of my life.
We walked beside the beach, down onto a platform of rocks. It was warm in the sun. The tide was coming in and we could see the waves break far off beyond the headland. The clouds, stretched over the horizon like unspun wool, covered a flat blue sky. The sea, the sea, had salt tears like me.
On the way home, the radio played "Time to Say Goodbye".
3 comments:
For some reason "I'm sorry for your loss" would seem the wrong thing to say here. Yes, you have lost something. And yes, I feel bad because you are sad. But still, on some level, that would be the wrong thing to say here.
What can I say? "Keep your chin up girl!"? "Hang in there!"? Compared to the alternatives, I think I'll just stick to the "I'm sorry for your loss"... It might not be the perfect thing to say, but it's the best we have. And it's honest, instead of being just another empty catch-phrase.
I dunno, I'm just rambling and not making any sense here. I do have one tangible idea to bring to the table: Chocolate. Chocolate helps. Always does.
My mum offered to go out and buy a block of Lindor even though she said "good" when I told her I'd broken up with him.
Well, your mum might not care much for Stuart, but she cares for you. And she doesn't want to see her daughter in distress. Unless you are living with bunch of sadists, that is. But since she offered to buy you block of Lindor, I don't think she's a sadist :).
Enjoy your chocolate!
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