by Amanda Day
“No. Just the start of a new year. New things to learn and try.” I explained, “I like getting new supplies in January for the year ahead and then see where it all takes me. This year I think I am going to go big and bold. The brighter, the better.”
He smiled; it was wide and he had perfect white teeth.
“Sounds interesting. I like models. I start something new every January too. Like a goal for the year. Something to achieve. Something to evolve.”
“Models?” I asked.
“Sure,” he grinned. “Tiny paper models. Replicas of big stuff made really small. Like the Sydney Opera House, or the Empire State Building. That kind of thing.”
My stomach gave a little roll. I loved the sound of it.
“That sounds amazing,” I said as he rung up my total.
“I tell you what,” he reached for a post-it note. “Why don’t I give you my email address and maybe we could get together sometime and swap projects. We could see what this year holds for both of us.” He wrote on the post-it and took my proffered cash. With my change he gave me the note, which I tucked safely into my purse and smiled.
“That sounds nice, I’d like that.”
He held out his hand. “Riley.”
I shook it; his skin was warm and soft.
“Mina.”
“That’s a pretty name,” he said, handing me my carrier bag. “I hope to hear from you, New-Year-Mina.” He flashed a smile. His face was nice; gentle, kind but most importantly, sincere.
I laughed. “Definitely.”
I was still smiling when I turned away, and almost crashed straight into you. You caught my arm to steady me.
You and Pan – or whoever she was – were right behind me, waiting patiently in line. I could tell from your face you had heard everything. Your mouth was set hard and angry, your eyes were sad. Possibly-Pan was looking around, oblivious.
I looked you in the eye, flicked my arm out of your grasp and said, “Excuse me. My mistake.”
Then I stepped around you both and walked away, and I didn’t look back. I never even had the urge.
Return Of The Future…
Riley may not turn out to be anything more than a friend. He may not make my palms sweat or my heart hammer, but he does have something there. A glimmer. I want to know him more, and that means something. It’s not like with you. In fact, he feels nothing like you. No, he feels like a beginning.
I want you to know that I am glad I met you, Drew. I am glad it all happened. I’m glad I fell so in love with you so quickly. I’d rather be me, hopeful and open, loving fast with my heart on my sleeve, than icy cold you. He who holds back and who is going to miss out on so much because he is afraid to let anyone in, just in case. Everyone gets hurt, Drew. It is not the pain that matters, but what you take from it and how it makes you a better person. How it makes you stronger.
I know that you have a heart of fire under those layers of ice. And I know for the right girl, you are going to be amazing. The better version of you. But sadly that girl is not me.
The thing is, I see now that I am better off without you. I’m happier, brighter, more alert. I finally feel present in my life in a way I never did when I was seeing you. But still, I love you and that is the hardest thing to accept and let go of. Whether it is the right thing to do or not, it doesn’t make it any easier.
I heard once that it is better to be alone, than with the wrong man. I guess I know deep down that it’s really true, no matter how much it hurts to admit it. I want to say it is utter bullshit, but it isn’t. I’m not all the way healed yet and I continue to get better. Every day is still fucking hard, but I am getting there, which is what counts. I take each hour, minute and second one at a time.
I want you to know the truth about love because I am afraid you are going to miss out: It is amazing and beautiful, and sometimes all-consuming. But it is also hard and painful in a way that shatters your soul and leaves dents that will never heal. That’s part of the beauty of taking the gamble; it’s part of the deal. It’s rarely straightforward or easy, but when you get it right, it’s so worth it. Unlike you, I’ll always pick the gamble. I’d rather deal with the pain of having loved someone with all my heart than feel nothing at all or, like you, believe I’m not good enough and miss something extraordinary. I want to feel it all. I want to be open for the extraordinary. I don’t want to miss out, even though sometimes when I remember I don’t belong to you, I feel like I can barely breathe. But that’s love.
And that’s how a resurrection really feels.
You can find out more about me and my books at
www.waffler-scribbles.blogspot.co.uk