280: What He Said
It’s been four years. Well, three were spent in agonising denial and heartbreak, and the last spent completely emotionally numb. So I’ve been seeing, well, I have seen him around on a more regular basis than I’ve ever realised or experienced in the last four years and frankly it is unnerving. At some point in my life I had told myself that I’d never get bored of him and I’d always be looking forward to the next time I saw him.
And here we are. Only two weekends ago on a Sunday morning I nearly ran into him when I looked up from my phone and I realised that he was standing at the lights with his mother holding groceries. I’ve never felt so terrified in front of him. I think he saw me, but I ran into the shopping complex and took a long route around just to avoid him. I know that he would never have come after me anyway, but I needed to make sure…of what, I don’t know. But yes
Yes, and the next time I was late to school. I caught a much later bus, and he got on from the train station’s bus stop. I wanted to be swallowed up by the earth. Here is the boy who took me to formal last year and I haven’t spoken to him face-to-face since. I’ve permanently turned off chat on Facebook so he would never have seen me online. I definitely don’t have feelings for him anymore. It’s hard to tell myself that once upon a time, this boy was everything to me. I had the guts to do anything for him even if it costed me some of my junior school grades. I had the guts to write a book about him. I had the guts to consume my waking hours thinking about him. How time changes people…
And the last time I saw him was last night, in my dreams. I’d been waiting for this kind of monophasic sleep for a while, to be able to sleep 9 hours straight and feel refreshed and not want to feel like dying half the time in school. I saw him last night and it was so frightening. We were in this classroom, probably from primary school, and he pulled me into the corridor and he was holding my arms. Something happened, and then he told me that it was love. I said no, I can’t accept your feelings because I don’t love you like I used to. I saw that look on his face, pure terror, desperation, despair, call it what you will. He was upset, he was crying. No, but it was love, he says.
That’s what he said it was. He said it was love. But I get angry thinking about it now. I know it wasn’t love. I was being stupid as usual and he didn’t understand or tolerate my stupidity. So he tried to play it safe. So in the end, I really did get bored of him. I never thought, in my airy-fairy fourteen-year-old life, that it would come to this. But now I do. The adults weren’t kidding when they said that time changes people and that time heals wounds.