He shook his head, unable to accept what I was saying.
“You think one thing, and you say another. You believe one thing, and then you act differently. You’re a pure contradiction. Chaos. You swore to yourself you’d never make a decision based on others’ expectations again, that you’d follow your own dreams and wishes. And now, look at you: you’re giving your life up for someone else.”
“You don’t understand. You don’t…understand me.”
He raised his arms and let them fall to his sides, powerless.
“I’m trying. I swear to you, I’m trying, but you’re like an unsolvable riddle. I keep getting more and more clues, but none of them lead anywhere, and I’m afraid they never will.”
“Well, if you can’t understand me, Trey, at least trust me. This is for the best. It’s over. It’s over, dammit!”
He stepped over and took my hands.
“Harper, babe, you have a problem. It’s that you’re constantly feeling, and it’s so intense that you’re unable to stop suffering in this illogical way that’s eating you alive. You’re being carried away by feelings you can’t control: guilt, desperation, anguish… You can’t make important decisions in the middle of that whirlwind. You’re setting yourself up for disaster.”
The anguish on his face was so intense that it was as if he was bearing all the pain for both of us. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop them. He tried to hug me, and I turned away. If I let him, I wouldn’t be able to stick to my decision. When I looked back at him, his eyes were two deep wells of sorrow.
“Do you love me?” he asked.
“Trey…”
“Do you love me?”
“That’s not it.”
“Just answer the fucking question!” he shouted. “Do you love me?”
“Yes,” I responded, bitterly but honestly.
“It’s not true,” he whispered. “Until you accept yourself, until you stop feeling guilty for everything that’s happened around you, until you trust in the person you are and learn to love yourself, you can’t love someone else. So I’m sorry, Harper. You don’t love me.”
That poisoned arrow hit me straight in the heart.
“I do love you, but I don’t want to hurt you, and I know I will. Sooner or later, I will.”
“You’re already hurting me. Don’t you see? Do you think me being far away from you is somehow going to be good for me?”
“Trey, I can’t survive if I try to do this halfway. Torn between what I love and what I feel I have to do. I need to choose.”
“And let me guess: you’ve chosen.”
“Yes,” I moaned.
If my life was a book, the most dramatic chapter was being written right then.
“For someone who usually thinks about things so much that she’s paralyzed when she’s forced to do something, you sure are letting some ridiculous impulses carry you away.”
“Maybe you don’t believe me, but this has nothing to do with impulses.”
“If I leave now, this is it, Harper. We’re done forever. I can’t just leave and come back into your life every time you change your mind. I can’t.”
“I understand.”
Then there came a moment—he shook his head so slightly, if I hadn’t been looking close, I could have missed it—when I knew he had understood. He understood there was nothing he could do to save me, that I didn’t want to be saved. He rubbed the back of his neck and said, “I guess that’s all I can say.”
“I’m sorry, Trey.”
“Yeah, me too. You know something? No one is more lost than the person who doesn’t want to find themselves. I hope you do, Harper. Hopefully you’ll find yourself someday.”
