He’d applied to the scholarship not having the least hope of being accepted. But he was. And he was leaving. I looked into his face searching for the irony but there was none. My fears came to life. I tried to reconcile between reality and nightmares, but no escape was before me. Inevitable truth stared me in the eye, and the sky laughed in mockery at my foolish heart.
We broke up, to say it bluntly. He was to leave to California God knows when.
“No one will know about this, not tonight,” I told him. My friends’ knowledge of the break-up would ruin the night. He agreed. And we were to spend our last day as a couple.
We walked in silence. My heart forbidding a thousand tears.
We were given our last day, and my every breath ticked away seconds that shredded a love that was not meant to be into pieces of elapsed time. I was losing the sense of belonging to a world I’d grown attached to—a world I had built with my own hands.
I tried to shake the thoughts away, but the more I chased them, the more I found them haunting my every move. Every step I made in that park was to lead to a final moment: a moment—I realized and shook with fear—of goodbye.
I began to feel it with its cutting edge, thrusting my heart with poisonous stabs. I looked at him. So silent and calm, the sadness in his eyes took me to a heaven I no longer wanted, a heaven I wished to burn.
We went to Faraya. No one knew. Harry and I kissed and we hugged, and pretended to be happy. We drank, we danced, we sang Happy Birthday to Jad who’d just turned 22. It was in every way a night to remember.
In my heart I began to hope that yesterday might had been a dream. We fitted so well. I kissed him in front of everyone, and it came so naturally, like back in the days when his lips were moist, burning with passion and desire.
The night passed. And we were to share bed together.
I slept by his side, facing him. I kissed him, and I knew he smelled the alcohol on my breath. He kissed me back. It was the first time we shared a bed… and my hoping heart believed it would not be the last. I reached for his body as we kissed. And I slowly undressed him as we both burned. He undressed me. We kissed some more. We were set on fire to the sound of rain strumming the window panes. He went on top of me, touching my skin with both his hands. And we started making love.
But before we both reached our climax, he stopped. I looked him in the eye. He turned away.
“I can’t,” he said.
“Can’t what? What’s wrong?” I pleaded.
“I just can’t.”
He turned his back and went to sleep.
I remained looking at the ceiling, filled with an emptiness I’d never in my life suffered. My tears came flowing, and I remembered the clouds we had watched. I turned my back on him, sobbing, I fell asleep with a hole in my chest eating me up.
Love waited in Faraya… It waited and waited, and still waits for lovers that are never to be.
We woke up the next day. I could no longer hide my feelings. I told Jad what had happened, and his concern killed me even more. I told him I wished not to speak of it. And the subject was closed.
We packed our things, Harry and I avoiding each other’s eyes. Our talks were limited to little chit chat. We didn’t address each other unless in need. The end had come. My heart knew it. And all hope was gone.
Everyone left to their cars. Harry and I were left alone. I stood before him, stiff to the bone. The moment must pass. The tear must go away taking with it the last of the words spoken. But as one tear came down, more appeared: floods and springs that washed my heart. I was lost in yesterdays of memories, and a strip of moments came before my eyes. This cannot be. It had been too good, too good to end. But maybe it was also too good to last.
Those two months had been one long dream from which I found myself woken with the first dawn of November. They had been filled with memories, bittersweet and painfully soothing. The dream came unexpected, and unaware, I found myself confound in its fabric. Living one fantasy after the other, not knowing that one day I would wake up, and all of it would shatter to pieces.
The day came when all I’d built was dispersed into oblivion. And my heart began its fall.
Harry came, and Harry left. Easily and undisturbed, he left. Just like a knife that cut through me, smoothly it caressed my skin and went into my flesh licking the blood.
Harry was gone now, and so was the dream. The realm I’d built crashed from where it floated, up on cloud nine. My bliss was ephemeral, and just like a ship, my heart now sailed in the same tempest-stricken waters I’d drifted in for years, where love is nothing but another ghost in the fog, looking for that light at the end of the world to find itself a new dock.
[…to be continued]