A Rueful Occurrence

Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering. ~Paul Coelho

Few years ago...

Some beach...

Sunset time

"When I am with you those moments are most special for me. I forget everything and my focus is you. It's almost like I'm wearing blinders. But it doesn't happen with you, right?" 

"No, it doesn't happen that way." He said smilingly.

I felt a sting at my heart. Didn't know what to say. I had hoped against hope in that fraction of a second that he would say otherwise. My breath became labored. I tried to absorb what I'd just heard. I rambled something after that...most of it incongruous. My mind had lost control of speech. 

He looked at me and said, "I'm going back." I stared at him waiting to say something more, but he didn't. I saw him turn and walk back to where the rest of the group was sitting. I called out to my other friend from the group standing close to the waters, and started walking. 

I don't remember if I had tears in my eyes. My heart was thumping though and I could feel the discomfort, the wrenching. I kept walking without realizing that I should stop and inform my other friends about where I was headed. 

What transpired through the rest of the evening was a series of misunderstandings, arguments and more unpleasant moments. We both tried to be normal given the circumstances. He succeeded; I didn't.

We had gone on a group outing. We were seeing each other after six months. Those first 15 minutes in the room didn't go too well; not as expected for sure. He had his reasons. I had mine. 

But this conversation brought something to light for me. 

To put it transactionally, why did he not just reach out for me, hug me or hold me in his arms. After the initial anger had died down, it made me think again. What could be the reason. What made him say those words I couldn't fathom. Rationale eluded me; shock and awe deluged me. I was numb for the first few minutes.

There are various moments in the last three years that I can call on when he has made me feel special and wanted.Though there have been times when I've felt that he is preoccupied and unable to concentrate on the present moment. But most of the times he's there. My first memory flash was July 2012. It'd hardly been a few weeks since we had started to feel the closeness. He came home. The moment he saw me he hugged and held me for a while. I was pleasantly surprised, almost losing my balance, but loved every bit of it. 

June 2013, he had moved to another city, and had come home for a week on an official trip. He landed on a Saturday afternoon. I was standing near the kitchen watching him take his luggage in to the room. He came out, smiled looking at me and grabbed me around my waist to pull me closer. It was not surprise but sheer delight that engulfed me this time. I can still feel the sensation. 

With my head reeling, I was back to thinking, "What happened this time?" He'd had a long travel. He was certainly tired and irritated, and said so too. His side of the argument later was that I was looking groggy and sleepy, which I was because I had popped a pain killer and was sleeping when he came. 

Since the moment of occurrence I played the sequence in my mind myriad times. I could see my side of the fault for the first time, but the second visit which was about an hour later I was unable to figure out the explanation. Unabashedly, I expressed my disappointment. He hugged me then and we shared a moment. It was beautiful though I couldn't enjoy it completely. I felt clogged with a feeling of desperation. We went for dinner later in the evening. I tried prodding the point, but we then laughed it off. I was thoroughly enjoying myself. The food, the ambiance, and most importantly, his presence. It was bliss.

Next day he planned a tour for all of us including city's top spots. It was a beautiful day and I was feeling much better. Moreover, I didn't want to miss the chance of spending time with him. He did ask me, "Will you able to manage?" I said, "Yes. Though I'm nervous too." He asked, "Why?" I said, "Generally." Though, on second thoughts, I kept wondering why did he not coax me to come along. But then he's too caring, and also non-dramatic something which I need to take lessons on. Considering my health on the previous day, he could never force me.

Through the day he kept checking on me, and I kept basking in the attention. I must confess I tend to take this habit of his for granted. It's so endearing and irresistible. And rare too, I must add. 

I tried taking my mind off the previous evening's awkward situation, but couldn't. When we got some time alone on the beach I couldn't help asking him. And then the fateful exchange took place.

Hours later, sitting in the balcony of my hotel room I couldn't stop crying.

"How could he say that," I said to myself! Do I not kindle an intense emotion in a person. Does my presence not have the desired effect. Am I not good enough?

It was one of the moments where I had less to say and more to grieve about. There was nothing that I could tell myself that would calm my nerves. But most of it all, I was finding it hard to accept that it had actually happened.  

Pulling the rational reigns, I said to myself, "May be he was really tired. And this was something momentary. May be I'm over reacting. I could have taken the initiative." 


The incident has, however, put a question mark for me in many ways. To begin with, will things be back to normal. And, will they continue with same intensity. Where does this put me in the overall perspective. How has the conversation impacted him. He will not say anything, I know.  

Our journey together so far compels me to believe otherwise in all aspects. I know I'm special for him, and will remain so. Though there is an overarching fear. But more on that later.  

Why I have chronicled such an unpleasant experience, I know not. Perhaps, I needed to put it all out to see. To get a cathartic opening. My heart's heavy with deep guilt and remorse since that moment for ruining his evening. I had no right to do that. He said what he felt was true. I need to accept that. 

I can't say I'm feeling any better. Worse, on the contrary. My apprehensions have parked themselves in the subconscious realm. Whether I'll get all the answers, I can only wait for time to tell.

But I don't want to lose him. He's too special. 

Does he feel the same? Don't want to know...

May be yes.