‘You sound so bloody intelligent. Why didn’t you say something all that time?’
‘Evidently, I didn’t have enough alcohol in my system, either. You see how smart I get after a bottle of wine.’
‘Ha-ha-ha. Pity, it doesn’t have the same effect on me.’
‘And how does it affect you?’
‘Lovingly.’ This was exactly what I was afraid of, but I was so drunk and all my barriers were down and I said everything that came into my heart and mind.
‘Do you want me to remind you tomorrow?’
‘I don’t think you’ll remember anything more than me tomorrow.’
‘I can’t deny it, but Phillip is an ingenious guy.’
‘He’s a jerk! That’s what he is! Pass me the glass which says “jerk” on it. Too bad, there’s no more tequila. It worked so well.’
‘Ha-ha-ha. What worked so well?’
‘The loathing. Wine, even a sip, makes me affectionate and loving.’
‘Perhaps, all the rage is out of your system and now there’s room for other emotions.’
The next morning, I woke up with a splitting headache. I could not remember such a headache since my student years. I had not drunk tequila for ten years, more or less. Combined with different wines which I continued to drink after the tequila had finished, the effect was unforgettable. Or totally forgettable. I didn’t remember most of the evening. But the truth was that, despite the headache, I felt much better.
In fact, what woke me up in the morning was the doorbell and the new delivery from Phillip. Banitsa and ayran, and an aspirin. Right on time! The note said: ‘Is this all you’ve got?’ I never was a heavy drinker and he knew it perfectly well. But this time I put up a good performance, at least that was what I thought. Phillip’s goal was to provoke me again. To pour out of me everything bad that I had kept inside with the help of the influence of alcohol. But the truth was that there was nothing left. I had poured out all the bullshit accumulated in me. I only smiled at the note. When Cathy woke up to the delicious whiff of the banitsa, I smiled at her too:
‘I love Phillip so much,’ she said.
‘Are you part of his plan too?’ I stung her.
‘Don’t think so, but I can’t deny that he knows the rules of the game!’
‘Sure, first he impregnates a woman and then he falls in love with another.’
‘Megs, I think I have to say something about this but right now I can’t articulate myself. Give me a sip of this life-giving ambrosia. I was dreaming of it in my sleep,’ said Cathy and took the glass of ayran.
I sent off Cathy after breakfast and started cleaning up. I was just about to throw away the envelope when I saw something else inside. Earplugs. I laughed out aloud. He was so thoughtful. And I was so disciplined. Right away I started tiding up, getting everything in order, and back to a comfortable frame. Suddenly I came to realize that I didn’t want to clean and tidy, but to leave the mess as it was, to put the earplugs in and to go to sleep.
I woke up in the middle of the night. It was dark outside. I had slept for many hours. I needed it badly. I looked for my phone to see the time and saw an SMS from an unknown number. ‘The courier rang a number of times and, since there was no answer, I presume that you are using my deliveries as intended. And I am happy for it. That is why I am sending you this message to inform you that the next package is waiting for you in front of the door. I hope that no bum or insolent neighbor has taken it.’
I smiled, but at the same time was angry. I didn’t want his plan to go so smoothly. I didn’t want to follow his footsteps again. This time I wanted to walk alone. But my curiosity was stronger than my irritation. I opened the door to find the package there. Cold but still tasty pizza. I was famished. Once again – bullseye. I had no desire to contemplate too much but just to dig into the pizza and to go back to bed. I opened the box and saw another message on the inside: ‘Sometimes it is pointless to think much. Sometimes what can make you happy is a tasty pizza, no matter how unhealthy and full of calories it is. This is what makes us humans. From time to time, to love things that could hurt us.’ Very metaphysical. No intention of pondering on it. No desire to either agree or disagree, nor to analyze it. Just eat the pizza and throw away the box and the philosophical views. That was what it deserved – the garbage bin. That was what I was going to do. But still, there was a trivial smile on my face. My sober face, not my drunken one.
When I woke up the next day the first thought that crossed my mind was: What is today’s surprise going to be? Not the package, but the surprise. Phillip was so clever. He did not act directly because he knew me so well and saw that I would not yield. He acted indirectly from a distance and it had an effect. This was the third day…and I woke up wondering what would follow. But there was no package. I checked my phone – there was no message. This somewhat annoyed me. I was annoyed at him for not sending me anything and at myself for falling so naïvely into this basic game. I decided not to stay and wait, but to go for a walk in the park. The weather was nice – sunny and calm. I put on leggings and a sweatshirt and went out. In front of the entrance, there was a mother with a four or five-year-old child. When I passed by them, the girl, so sweet and innocent, smiled at me. I smiled back. She was holding a spring flower and handed it to me. The mother turned around and smiled too. I didn’t want to take the flower, but the mother insisted, so I did. Such a nice gesture! I smiled at the beautiful start of the day and went towards the park. Then a boy that was out jogging caught up with me. He gave me another flower and passed on without saying a word. Then I came to realize what was happening. This was the delivery. I was speechless. It was so sweet and beautiful. I could not deny it. I decided not to jog and started walking but every two minutes there were people coming up to me giving me spring flowers. All sorts of people – old and young, men and women, girls and boys, couples and small children. Some of them had obviously gone out of the office to give me the flowers, perhaps they worked close by and received a signal when to do it. At the end of my walk I had a whole bouquet of spring flowers, so beautiful and colorful, and rich. Harvested with so many different energies! All the people that gave me flowers smiled at me and were probably thinking what a lucky girl I was. Such a grand gesture from an admirer! Wasn’t I lucky? Once again, I had allowed Phillip to determine the development of our relationship. I looked at the flowers and decided that I didn’t want to take them to my flat. I gave them to a girl that was passing by. She was surprised but accepted them with a smile. The act of giving made me even happier than the act of receiving. When I went upstairs, there was a new package waiting for me. I was on the verge of leaving it unopened, throwing it directly into the waste bin without seeing what was inside. I was getting really frustrated by Phillip’s games, his attempts at brainwashing me. But I could not resist him in spite of everything.
I opened the package; there was a dictation machine inside and a small wooden box. I opened the box first. It was a musical box. Very pretty, with a ballerina inside. The ballerina was standing on one leg and was twirling around to the sound of a gentle melody. There were several photos inside too. Photos of me. I remembered exactly when they were taken. Millions of years ago, when our relationship was still young and fresh. One morning, I woke up and he was standing over me, taking photos. He said that he wanted to immortalize this sleeping, serene beauty emanating from me. I had buried my head into the pillow: the snaps were of my shoulder, my hair, a close up of my face, while we were wrestling with the pillow. Tears ran down my cheeks when I recalled this memory. It was so vivid; how could I be so naïve, thinking that everything had evaporated and been banished from my mind? Evidently, it hadn’t. Once again, I was annoyed at the ease with which Phillip could move me. Angrily, I pressed the button of the dictation machine, knowing that I would hear his voice and that this would me give me even greater pain. But it wasn’t his voice. It was a favorite song that we loved to listen to while traveling together. It was Louis Armstrong’s What a Wo
nderful World… I loved it. The melody. The voice. The lyrics. There were various video clips of this song, depicting beautiful places from across the world. I had always looked at them with pleasure and had marveled at the beauty of our planet. How could we be so blind as to be unable to see all this beauty? While in fact, only the simple things made us rich – those that we took for granted and left unnoticed. Such as nature, animals and the world around us. I remembered once we were traveling in Bulgaria, aimlessly, listening to this song. We were just in the car for the fun of traveling. He had one hand on my shoulder, the other on the wheel. My head was resting on his shoulder. This song was on replay, and we were listening to it again and again, without getting tired of it. We didn’t even talk. We were so emerged in the loveliness of the Indian summer among the splendor of the Bulgarian countryside, the beauty of the moment when we were together and nothing else mattered. And shortly afterwards, our relationship crashed… We reached a dead-end, a place he refused to share with me, he preferred to navigate on his own and this led to the end.
Until now, I had not thought about what he had been through. For the first time I presumed to suppose how he must have felt, what he had lived through in order to give me up, to give us up. I knew what family meant to Phillip. I knew how responsible he was and how he appreciated family values. Perhaps I would never really understand what this test, sent by Fate, actually meant to him. A test of his character, of his viewpoint, his childhood memories, his duty towards his parents, whom he had lost at such a tender age. I thought about his grandmother and the role she had played in his life. How she had found my letters or rather, how they had found her, the way they had provoked her to tell him about his mother and how she had disregarded the obligations towards the family in the name of love. Perhaps, if Phillip had received the letters one after the other, they would not have had the same effect on him. They would not have pushed him towards breaking his oath to build a strong family for the sake of his unborn child. Then his grandmother… she had seen the truth behind the facade of his life even without any knowledge of what had actually occurred. Phillip and I had talked about children many times and I knew his opinion. He was very passionate about having a large family, taking care of it, being there for his children during their childhood and later. I had jested many times that he seemed much more prepared for this role than I was. Before I met him, I had taken the concept of family for granted. But when I saw the flame that burned in Phillip’s eyes every time he mentioned it, I realized what he had missed in his childhood and how badly he needed to have his own family in order to feel complete and whole; a person who could be called “happy”.
Right at this moment, for the first time an idea entered my mind that I had never had before. Instinctively, Phillip had decided to break up with me in the name of the values and duty that he esteemed highly in his heart. But the moment his grandmother shattered this illusion, the moment his grandmother provoked him to consider what was more important – duty or love, he had firmly and irreversibly decided to talk to Dana, to tell her about me and why he was unfit to be her husband, even though she was carrying his child. He did this even without knowing whether I was ready to take him back. I considered the firmness of his decision and actions in spite of the alternative of rejection and remorselessness… Even faced by the possibility that I might have moved on and have another man in my life. I considered the strength of his resolution to discard the relationship with the mother of his child without knowing if we would be together again. Then this conviction became loud and clear, strong and affirmative: Phillip loved me, and he never stopped loving me but, at the time he had taken the decision to leave me, he was guided by duty towards his parents and inherited family values connected with them. This had shifted the scale. When he had learned about the baby, all these barriers had suddenly appeared, surrounding and imprisoning him. But the moment the illusion of duty was shattered, he had felt free again and had flown towards the only truly important thing in his life – love.
At this instant my hands started shaking violently. I turned off the dictation machine. I did not hear the end of the recording. Perhaps there was some message at the end, but I had no desire to hear it any longer. At this point, my curiosity was no longer stronger than the fear rising from within. I could not understand or describe this fear. But I felt a strong need to escape. To escape from the dictation machine, from all the packages. I wanted to flee from this flat where I could sense Phillip’s scent and memories. I even wanted to escape from myself. I decided to go for a run – something which I could not do this morning. This time I didn’t want to be disturbed, so I ran down the stairs and rushed out of the door at the speed of light, eliminating any possibility of someone attempting to stop me.
Chapter 49
The next couple of days I received deliveries and, at a certain time, I stopped opening them. I didn’t want to follow in Phillip’s footsteps any longer. I didn’t want my behavior and emotions to be guided by him. He was very slick and I was convinced that he had thought through every step; they were not accidental but exact, leading to the concrete result he desired. I couldn’t claim that this was manipulation on his part. All the things that I had received so far were nothing special. They were merely provocative. Provocations that made me look towards my inner self. Something (which he knew well) I stubbornly refused to do. Lately, I had preferred to close my eyes and to walk blindfolded. A naïve move, but to a great extent this was what saved me. I even acted the same way with Marty. I let myself be led by the circumstances and did not take control of my own life and actions, I did not take responsibility for anything. It was easier this way, and safer, it seemed.
Naturally, this was a delusion in which I lived. But one might be surprised how many of us actually make this choice – when the responsibility for your own life is not in your hands but in someone else’s, you can never blame yourself for the mistakes, failures and problems. The blame is always put on someone or something else outside your control. Someone you could resent, someone you could hate and even exclude from your life. Therefore, deceiving yourself that by eliminating that person you are protecting yourself from the pain and the subsequent mistake. How gullible! I was perfectly capable of answering for my own actions and I knew that the opposite was in fact one of the biggest mistakes people made. It hurts and confuses us the most. But this time, I preferred to hide. This time, I preferred not to take control of my life and to let someone else lead the way.
Until now! Allowing myself to play Phillip’s game, I felt that once again it would lead me to a place I didn’t want to be. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, Phillip still had an enormous influence over me. The moment I started following his steps, I came to understand that if I were to follow that path I should do it on my own will. And not on his command. I knew I had to take control of my life and to decide for myself, led by my own choices and not someone else’s. And the first step was to shun any outside influence. To be alone and to ask myself the question: ‘The next thing I want to do, is it because of me or because of someone else?’
So, I stopped accepting the deliveries. I called the office to do the same. I decided to clear the space around me. I cleaned my flat and threw away heaps of things. I had to be occupied with something and not think about Phillip. I ran and walked in the park several times a day. I cooked – I hadn’t done it for a long time. At times I thought it would be wonderful to go to the village. But still I connected it with the start of my relationship with Phillip, our first intimate contact in an uncanny, profound way. I didn’t want to go into that deep water yet. I preferred to be where I felt on my own turf and in control.
The week that had started with strong emotional turmoil passed. It passed all the way through awareness to taking control. The end of the week came, and I had recovered and was feeling better.
I could not deny that the weather contributed to my good mood. It was getting warmer. There were there first signs of spring. I didn’t pull the curt
ains at night and woke up in the morning with the rays of the rising sun. My flat was close to the park and I could hear the birds singing. Drinking my morning tea with the windows open, I enjoyed their beautiful melodies. Playful and abounding. The trees were budding. So, with the awakening of nature by mood became sunnier, brighter and more fragrant.
Until one day, waking up to yet another morning of bird songs in front of my window, sunrays on my face and a wide sleepy smile, I had awakened again to another beautiful day.
I got up, drank some tea and took a shower. I overheard the doorbell while I was still under the spray of water. I presumed that it was another delivery. The bell continued to ring periodically but persistently while I was getting out of the shower. What was Phillip up to this time? I was in a particularly good mood and wondered whether I should take the delivery this time. Better not! There was still the danger of emotional collapse. I needed to enhance my strength acquired over the past few days. I was wearing a bathrobe and a towel over my head when I opened the front door with the intention of sending away the courier.
‘Phillip?’
‘Megan!’
‘What are you doing here? I thought you were the courier.’
‘I decided that it was useless sending you packages when you do not take them anymore.’
‘I want you to leave!’
‘I won’t!’
‘I’ve got nothing to say to you! I’m in too good a mood to argue.’
‘I’m glad to hear it! Just in time to make my spirits high. The last couple of days were not the best.’
‘The last couple of months were not the best. Once in a blue moon I have a good day and you show up and spoil it.’ This was a blow below the belt. I didn’t really mean what I said but it just slipped out of my mouth. I still desired to hurt him. Obviously. I saw that he was in pain and felt sorry immediately.
‘Look, Phillip, I’m sorry! I can’t blame you for everything that happened. The truth is I behaved like a coward. At most I should have done, at least for my sake and not for the sake of our relationship, was to insist on an answer. I believe that in a relationship the man should have the lead role and the woman should follow, but this does not mean that she has no role to play. Bearing in mind this bizarre turn of events I should not have left things unaccounted for. I could have found a way to ask you the questions that interested me. Although I am not sure that after your escape I had the right to want answers from you. It doesn’t matter now. It’s too early in the day to make such analyses and debriefings of past events. I want to have my tea in peace on the terrace listening to the birds. What I meant was that I don’t want to blame only you. I’ve passed this stage.’
I Choose You, Love Page 30