I Choose You, Love

by Aleona de Kama

  It was evident that she had not slept. There were dark shadows under her eyes which were red from crying. Jesus, what had I done again to my sweet, little girl? I wanted to absorb the whole of the pain, and lift the heavy burden from her fragile shoulders. But, in fact, I was the cause of it all, the root of all the evil that had befallen her. ‘You are not welcome here’ – these words did not surprise me, but they hewed into my heart like sabers. I was well aware that I had no right to expect that Megan would jump right into my arms again with joy. I was well aware that I was much more likely to hear reprimands and shouts, that she should hit me, ask me to leave, even to call the police. This was what I would have done in her place. But hearing her say these words with ice-cold composure and such indifference… I was not prepared for such a reception.

  But this did not matter at all. I was ready to fight for her at any cost, I was ready to win her love again and was going to do it, regardless of the position she had put me in at this stage. It was true that I had made a huge mistake but I was ready to do everything possible to fix it. We were both alive and well, so there was nothing irreparable. She even let me into her flat. This was a good sign. At least I thought so.

  I entered, took off my shoes and followed her into the kitchen.

  ‘Wait for me in the sitting room,’ she said merely, her eyes fixed on the kitchen counter. I supposed that she needed some time to be alone.

  I was dying to embrace her! I was dying to give her all my love and support. But where had I been when she needed me? I was not there. Once again, Megan had coped on her own. So many times, she had proved that she was strong. Why should she allow me into her life again? Was there still a spark of love for me? I only needed a spark to light up the fire. But what if there was nothing?

  I went to the sitting room as she had asked me. Upon entering, I was overwhelmed by a wave of memories. So many beautiful memories… The fact itself that she had allowed me to enter her private space, the fact that I was in her flat again created with so much attention and love, made me feel better. It felt like home again. Megan was everything to me. I could not believe that I had permitted this to happen and to ruin everything between us. I could not believe that I had refused to find a solution that would have allowed me to preserve the dearest thing in my life – love. I was a coward, refusing to face the problem.

  The sitting room was cozy, furnished with flair and taste. There were sketches on the table. For the first time I saw Megan’s drawings, still not transformed into fashion models and interior designs. The drawings were…heart-rending. They all followed one idea, but interpreted differently. Most of them were dark, even dismal. They were a hurricane, a vortex of darkness. In the background there were beautiful, lighter, brighter colors but they were only a speck in the entire drawing which created the feeling that this beauty on the inside was suffocated by the blackness and darkness. I never knew black had so many nuances. Shivers ran down my spine when I realized what was going on in her heart. Looking at the drawings, I could feel the struggle within Megan, the fight for fate, hope, love that had always illuminated this girl with all the dark and black feelings that had overwhelmed her upon the betrayal. By me. It was a struggle for survival. A struggle to preserve her beliefs. A struggle to protect the beautiful, the genuine that gave meaning to life. So little of the beautiful was present on the sheets of paper spread in front of me. The various drawings represented different stages of this struggle. In some the light was just a tiny dot, while the hurricane was whirling so fiercely that, looking at it, one could feel its triumph, delight, inspiration and power. In others, the light was bigger. I wondered about the timeline of the drawings. Whether during the struggle there were times when the black triumphed, and others when the light was victorious and made it shrink? Or was this a one-way process where the colors finally disappeared?

  ‘Do you like my new hobby?’ Megan asked, coming in with two cups of steaming tea.

  ‘Yes, they are beautiful. Very powerful.’

  ‘I can’t stop drawing. I tried drawing something else but, as hard as I tried to use other colors, to take a different turn, each time I ended up where I started. Chaos in the darkness.’

  My heart was pierced once again. Every time Megan reminded me of the pain she carried inside caused by me, it was like a hard and swift blow to my heart. I would never forgive myself.

  ‘Why did you come, Phillip? I have no desire to speak to you. I have no desire to see you. I’m not ready for this. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t want your explanations or excuses. It’s too late. Far too late. My only wish when I heard your voice this morning was to discard you from my space, from my flat, from my town…but I’m better than that. I believe that I’m a responsible person and can stand up and face pain and the past. So, why are you here? I don’t want to see you but I’m not going to run away. I’m not going to hide, because I’m bigger than my fears. I’ll hear what you have to say because I want closure, so that I can move on.’

  ‘Megan… Love…’

  ‘Don’t call me that! You lost the right the moment you made your choice. Love does not live here anymore. I respect your choice, regardless of how much it hurt me. Be so good as to respect mine too!’

  I didn’t know what to say. I could see that she was uncompromising. I could feel her coldness, her strength. Megan loved me truly, and namely because of this love for me I managed to crush her to the ground, to push her so low as she had never been before. Well, she had managed to get up again and had found the strength to stand on her own two feet alone. And by doing this she had accumulated much more power than before, which now she emanated even from a distance. Power and callousness. That tenderness and affection, that desire to be cared for, had disappeared. Megan wanted to demonstrate this power and show that there was no place for me in her life. Not that she wished to hear my story and motives. I wanted to run away, to hide. There was more strength in this woman than in me at this point. But exactly because of this I was obligated to explain to her and to make her understand my actions and ask her to forgive me.

  ‘Megan, I don’t know where to begin.’

  ‘Why have you come, Phillip?’

  ‘To stay!’

  Megan

  He had no right to do this. He had no right to show up like that. To show up again and to push me down again. How many times did he think I could bear it? How many times did he think he could come again and again into my life and push me down and watch me get up again. I had no more strength left in me. I could not. I didn’t want to see you. I was tired. I was tired of the pain, tired of falling, tired of him. I was sitting on the bathroom floor. The water from the shower was falling on me. I had lost track of time. I wanted to clean my body, to clear my mind and consciousness of the thoughts about him and the emotions he brought into my soul again. I wanted him to disappear. I wanted him never to have appeared. My tears had dried up long time ago but I couldn’t stop crying and sobbing. My arms were wrapped around my naked body for support and warmth. But regardless of them and the hot water that was pouring on me, I could not stop shivering. I was shivering from fear. From fear that once again he had come into my life and wanted to stay.

  He told me everything. Finally, I understood what had happened. Why he had left. Finally, I received answers to all those infinite questions that haunted my nights. For the first time I was able to arrange the puzzle which had taken so much effort and energy out of me. And despite my trivial attempts to hide the truth from myself that I didn’t need answers, it was obvious to all that I never ceased asking questions and receiving no answers. In the end I learned the truth. Finally, I understood what had happened and why he had abandoned me so unexpectedly. But this did not make me feel any better. Indeed, the unknown can be more painful than the truth, but in this case, the truth did not bring me the solace I yearned for. I could see Phillip’s remorse from what had happened, and his actions, for the pain he had caused me. I could even see the pain he experienced too – through h
is eyes and body language. I was standing right next to him, listening to his story that I had desired to hear for such a long time and did not turn a hair. I was frozen and numb. Expressionless, emotionless. The whole time Phillip expected a reaction from me. I too expected one. But there was nothing! There was nothing to indicate that this story concerned me in any way.

  Phillip told me about the difficulties in making the decision, the feeling of duty that suffocated him. He told me about Dana and the night the baby was conceived. This happened after he had seen me for the first time and before getting to know me better. He told me about his life after taking the decision and the deadlock he was in, not knowing what to do with me, how to tell me and put an end to the only thing in his life that he had ever wanted – me. He told me about his relationship with Dana before and now. He told me about his grandmother and how she found the letters and her reaction and the story of his mother. He told me how this story influenced him and that, before hearing it, he felt obligated to fulfil his duty towards the baby, as a duty towards the family, respectively, his parents. But in fact, the lesson that his parents were trying to teach him the whole time was that there should be duty towards love and not family. He also told me what his grandmother had told him as a farewell, hearing that he had made a mistake and was going to fix it. He also told me about Dana’s reaction when he informed her of his decision – that he would always be there for her and the baby and would try to be the best possible father, but not her husband and life partner. He told me about the calmness with which Dana listened to and accepted this, the love and support she gave him because she was aware that there was nothing between them anymore, but she was willing to make this sacrifice – to remain a couple in the name of the child she wanted so badly. Regardless, she was happy for Phillip. He told me that he felt so stupid again, realizing that he was ready to sacrifice his life, his love for the only woman that mattered to him, in the name of an illusion that he had created in his head… and nothing else.

  He told me all this and I could see that after every sentence he expected to see a reaction from me – something, anything. But I was ice-cold like a statue. I listened, and the picture started to clear up gradually, the way a photograph emerges from the negative, clearer and clearer, immersed into the liquid, transforming from a blank white sheet of paper into a reflection of the image captured by the lens. I listened, but deep inside, I felt dead.

  When Phillip ended his story, explaining all his motives and repeating for the millionth time how sorry he was, and how very stupid his actions were, and how he was ready to do anything to amend his mistake, and that he was ready to wait patiently as long as it was necessary to forgive him; I thanked him for his openness, or more so, I stated my gratitude. I told him that in fact I could not see any possibility for us to be together again because some things in life are irreversible. I told him that I had moved on and that there was no place for him in my life now. Then I asked him to leave. I told him that I let him into my flat in order to hear what he had to say and to get closure for both of us and not with the intention of continuing to develop something that I had wanted to forget until recently. He listened to my words, but I could see that he did not process the information. I believe, he expected a more violent reaction from me, shouts, curses, insults, rage and aggressiveness or for me to throw myself into his arms, exalted with joy that we were together again. Anything else but this indifference. I behaved as if I didn’t care, and what he had told me was valueless and meaningless. As if he had informed me that the shop I wanted to visit was closed today. I truly felt that way. I heard everything Phillip said, I saw his emotions and reactions, but I did not feel a thing. The skill that I had perfected for years, was namely to numb the emotions inside of me. This was the reflex that I was using at that moment in order to protect myself and to survive the avalanche of emotions that swept over me the moment I realized that Phillip was standing behind me, at arm’s length. He refused to believe me and did not want to leave, but I was very insistent.

  Finally, Phillip said that we were both tired and needed rest and time to think things over. I could not look at him in the eyes when he was leaving. I refused to. I looked in all directions except at him. And just when I thought that his nightmare was over, he had his shoes on and was moving towards the door, when he turned around suddenly. In an instant, he was right next to me. He took my face in his hands and kissed me. It was so unexpected, so surprising, so…irresistible. Everything else lost its meaning. All other sensations lost their strength and the only thing left was that conquering, indescribable force between us. The instant I felt his lips on mine, electricity passed through my body, my mind exploded, my heart was resurrected, I felt I had found my standing again and felt in a way I had not felt for a really long time. Despite the strong emotions and the desire to hug him and hold his face in my hands and feel his body, my mind was wide awake. Then I realized that, as much as I felt wonderful in his arms, the pain from losing him was equal or even stronger. I came to realize that I did not want to feel that pain again, I did not want to be deceived again and to be rejected, abandoned, betrayed and that the only way that I could survive and preserve myself was to push him away. Immediately. Right now. At that point I shoved him and slapped him as hard as I could, putting in all the wrath that had been building up inside of me for so long. But when I looked at him he was smiling, he was even happy and said:

  ‘It’s still there, Love! All of it is all still there. I know how much I love you. I know how much you love me. Everything between us is still there, I have no doubt. I know that what I felt from this single kiss, you felt too. I’ll give you time to consider everything I told you and to forgive me and trust me again. I know that you are trying to deny everything, and that you have pushed the pain and the love deep down. But I will fight for you, Love. You give me meaning. And I shall never desert you again.’

  Chapter 48

  Phillip did not show up again, but he had a strategy that he employed the very next day. I needed a break, so I called the office to check my meetings and see whether it was possible to reschedule them. I was informed that there was a delivery for me.

  This was the first step in his plan. For an entire week, he sent me various packages. Not only flowers with “Sorry” and “Miss you” notes. He was much more imaginative. The first package that was sent to the office was a bottle of tequila and a set of glasses, together with a letter. It read: ‘Get drunk. You need to bring down the barriers that you have put up around yourself in order to be able to feel again. First you will feel rage. Strong and unforgiving. Rage towards me and everything I did. Rage towards yourself for being so stupid to trust me and to allow me close to you and to love me.’ I took out the bottle of tequila and the box with the glasses and, although I was vexed by his good insight on how I felt, I said to myself: ‘Why the hell not?’ I unpacked the set and saw that each glass had a label – liar, jerk, brute, fraud. He was absolutely right about one thing: I really needed a drink. Perhaps it was time to get drunk. I was impatient to call someone to keep me company. I opened the bottle in the corridor where I had unpacked the package that was sent by a courier to the office. I poured the first glass with the label “liar” and knocked it back, without thinking. I enjoyed it.

  ‘Liar,’ I said aloud.

  I hadn’t been really drunk after the abandonment. I wasn’t in the habit of solving my problems with drinking. This was for the feeble. I poured a second glass – this time with the “jerk” label. I didn’t get drunk at the time because I decided to entomb everything deep inside. Just now I realized how beneficial this course of action would have proven. A one-time thing, but still. It could have been a purging experience. Third glass – “brute”. I laughed. He had chosen the words well. They suited him perfectly. It was time to call for backup, but they would have to bring their own drinks. The tequila was only for me.

  Of course, the reinforcement arrived almost instantaneously. Some of my best friends came with huge a
mounts of wine, chocolate in different shapes and tastes. It didn’t matter that it was still noon. They were ready for such moments because best friends had to be. I was already tipsy when they started to arrive. My mood fluctuated from rage towards Phillip to insane laughter and crazy sobbing… without even pausing in between. I had some true friends. Quickly, they understood what was expected of them. One by one they relaxed, poured glasses of wine, opened all the boxes of chocolates and started talking about my drama and their woes. We stayed up until four in the morning although they all had responsibilities the next day; jobs, husbands and kids. They had been waiting for this moment and wanted to give me all the support I needed. Finally, when only myself and Catherine, who was free the next day, were left, she said:

  ‘Megan, I don’t know how you’ve coped so long.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I don’t know how you managed to shut up this enormous thing that happened inside, without bringing the dirt out, as you did today – both the anger and the cursing, the shame and the guilt, the humiliation and the pain. Everything. Such a strong love, followed by such an unexpected separation, it was only natural to feel this way. But you denied it all and closed yourself to the world. You decided to oust these negative emotions from your life. You are a very disciplined person, Megs. We all know it. When you set your mind on something, you always achieve it, whether it is that you don’t want to show to the world how you feel, you would never allow it, regardless of how hard it must have been. You are a person that can carry such a burden for a long time, I know it. But I truly prayed that something would provoke you and the venom gathered inside that you prevented from seeping out, would gush out before it poisoned you. This would have led to emotional blockage, leading to a physical one, and then – sickness. It is the mind that brings all the ailments, and what is in our minds comes from…the heart.’