Que Sera

My legs falter as I see you approaching in the distance, my cry of welcome dies in my throat as I see you look around determinedly at the florist, the chemist, the game store; anywhere but me. My head hangs and I sink to the floor as you stride into the distance, desperately pretending that you had never seen me, never met me, never knew me.

***
I can feel your eyes on me as I walk past. I look the other way, not wanting to se how I’ve hurt you again – I’m so sick of the guilt, of the recriminations, of your tears. What should I do? What do I say? What can I say? There are no words.

***

I can’t remember when I met you first, when you first walked into my life, all I can remember is finally noticing you were there, realising that I wanted you with the passion that belongs to the forbidden. You weren’t mine, could never be mine – but at times, oh how I wished you could be.

***

“No regrets – never any regrets.”
I take it back – one regret; that I ever told you I liked you. If I’d never spoken, never believed, oh how happy we would be now. None of this pretending, none of these games, where you look away and pretend like I never meant anything to you, like you never held me in your arms and told me how glad you were we were together, like you never whispered to me, hot and hard in the night, that you loved me. If I’d never said anything, if I’d never deluded myself into believing that maybe, just maybe, you could feel the same way about me, if I’d never decided to tell you maybe we could still be friends, not the cold, stilted strangers we’ve become.

***

“There’s someone else”
Something cracks. Is it me? Is it my heart? My life? My hope? Have I anything left to crack?
“I don’t know how I feel – I don’t know how I want to feel. I don’t even know what I felt – but I thought you should know.”
A slow steady noise. Is it my heart still beating on despite all expectations or just a clock’s tick somewhere in the distance? The beating of a drum, perhaps, echoing through the silence, the slow, painful silence; the tear I expected to streak down my cheek doesn’t, and I lift my hand to my face, surprised by its absence. Is this real? Is any of this real? Or just another one of those weird fanciful dreams? I look deep into your eyes as I try and work out if this is goodbye.

***

“It’s over isn’t it?”
“What?”
“You, me, this, us, it’s over.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry – don’t ever be sorry. No regrets.”

***

Your eyes say it all, your arms, your hands, there is no need for words as you hold me close and tell me you love me.

***

So this is what it is like to be loved.

***
You knock on my door and I open it. You’re standing there, oh so beautiful. My breath sticks in my throat, my mouth dries up and as I swallow, frantically, trying to find the words to tell you, you smile nervously. You laugh and threaten me, half jokingly, that I’d better tell you that you look good. Of course I think you do. I always have. I just can never make you believe it. I lean down and brush my lips against yours, wishing I can make it so you never doubt again. Wondering how you can’t see how much I love you every time I look into your eyes, every time I say your name, every time you make me laugh. I wonder what happened to make you feel this doubt, why you never noticed just how special you are.

***
“You made me feel special – like I could do anything, be anything. You made me feel like finally I was someone who mattered, someone important.”
“You are special – you’re amazing. Is there any way I can make you believe me?”
You look sadly into my eyes, tears glisten on your eyelashes and I know your answer even before you smile and shake your head slowly.
“No,” you say. “No.”

***

“There’s something you should know…”
“You’re pregnant.” A laugh.
“No”
“You’re leaving me?” the terror in your voice.
“No”.
You look impatient, worried, confused.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
“Oh.” A slow, dumb grin spreads over your face, and I see your eyes shine with joy. “Oh.”
***

“I still want to be friends.” My hand brushes your face, feeling the stubble newly growing on your cheek, rasping against my hand for the last time.
“I’d like that.” A soft smile as I turn and walk away.

***
“I thought it would be nice if we could try being friends. None of this awkward looking away and pretending like none of this ever happened, or worse, that neither of us exist.”
You pause, and then you don’t smile, but somehow you unfreeze, like something has clicked back into place, and finally you can be you again.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
“We don’t have to be what we were, but I’d like to stop being what we are.”
“I’d like that too.”
We smile and listen as the cheers being, and the loud bangs tell of fireworks somewhere nearby. We smile as people around us celebrate a new year, a new beginning.
“Que sera, sera…” I sing softly under my breath.
“What’s that?” you ask.
“Oh, nothing,” I reply.
Around us the celebrations continue.

***

I smile as the cheers begin. I catch your eye as you mutter something under your breath.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Oh, nothing,” you reply.
Around us the celebrations continue.
Whatever will be, will be.

***