I still believe what I said. It won’t work between us, he wrote with his typical candor. I made a face as I read the message. He was talking about how it was impossible for us to go back to how things had been before, despite the fact the neither of us had ever been able to make much sense of what we’d had in New York.
But even though we were now living separate lives far apart, we hadn’t forgotten any of it.
Above all else, we hadn’t been able to forget each other.
A few moments later, I grabbed my phone and got up from the table. But even as I paid the bill and followed my friends out of the café, my mind wasstill anchored to my chat with Neil. I did everything like an automaton. I nodded my head at Janel and responded to Bailey distractedly, but in reality, I just wanted to be by myself so I could talk to him again.
Was this also one of love’s side effects?
It’s what you believe, sure, but it’s not what you actually want, I wrote back to him.
Maybe I was pushing it but Neil could be incredibly arrogant and presumptuous. He was convinced that he knew everything and that refusing to allow himself to forge normal human relationships was the only solution to his problems. Above all else, he was convinced that he was unworthy of receiving true, pure love.
He was convinced that there was something wrong about him, that he was a monster.
Why had it taken me so long to see this? Because no one—certainly not Neil himself—had told me anything about his past.
We don’t always want the right things.
I told my friends goodbye and headed home. I walked, glancing between my phone and the sidewalk. Every now and then, I would stumble over my own feet, distracted by our conversation. It was rare to get the opportunity to have an actual conversation with Neil, so even if he was only present virtually, I was going to take full advantage of the temporary talkativeness.
The right thing isn’t always what’s best for us, I wrote out with both thumbs flying.
And what do you think is best for you?He asked, and I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. I adjusted the scarf around my neck with one hand. A woman passed me pulling a little girl along by the hand, and her face looked numb from the cold. It occurred to me that my own fingers were practically frozen around my phone, but I couldn’t wear my gloves if I wanted to keep texting with him.
Being with you.It was a confession, and I sent it without any further reflection.
I wasn’t sure if that could be considered a true declaration of love, but I regretted writing it almost immediately either way. Suddenly, the coldall around me was replaced by a heat that was emanating solely from my cheeks.
I bit my lip and began walking again, hugging my long coat around me. I shook my head at the ridiculous thing I had just done. Neil was never going to text me again. How many more attractive, more experienced women was he surrounded by at all times?
A lot.
He wasn’t going to choose me.
Neil often thought that I couldn’t handle him and sometimes I thought so too, but there was something inside me that shooed those doubts away. Because I knew that I could accept him for who he was.
My phone vibrated, and I read it immediately. I wasn’t expecting a response but I got…
I already let you be with me.
I snarled angrily. That’s what being together meant to Neil: hopping into bed. His mind could only envision a sexual relationship between us, nothing more. His body was a merry-go-round, and he’d already let me have more than one spin. Now it was time for the next girl in line.
From every angle, Neil was unbelievable. He had a deep soul and a brilliant mind but sex was the only way he knew how to communicate. He expressed himself physically so well that women, enthralled by his power and skill, didn’t see what was hidden behind his enigmatic air and seductive smile.
Now I understood that he’d been turned into an object when he was a child, and even now, he was still objectifying himself because he believed that was all he had to offer.
I wasn’t talking about sex, I typed, my fingers numb from the cold.
How could I make him see? It wouldn’t be easy to change his way of thinking; it had been developed over the course of his entire life.
Fifteen minutes later, I was home and still lost in my thoughts. He hadn’t responded to that last message, though I’d seen that coming. I walked up my driveway and lifted a hand to wave at my neighbor, Mrs. Kamper, as she headed to her car. I smiled at her, but then a sudden feeling of vertigo forced me to grab hold of the porch railing. My heartbeat sped up, and powerful throbs of pain in my head made me close my eyes and breathe in deeply.
I was having these dizzy spells and getting headaches more and more lately. I’d already told my doctor, and she assured me it was nothing to be concerned about, just more fallout from the trauma of the accident.
I tucked my phone into my coat pocket and paused for a couple of minutes before climbing the last few steps to my front door. That miserable feeling had come back, weighing heavily on my chest. My body frequently felt weak; I wasn’t getting much sleep at night, and the headaches only increased in frequency. I honestly didn’t know who to talk to, besides the doctor, or how to cope with the situation. I wanted to keep my suffering under wraps to avoid freaking my mother out, so I tried to get through the worst moments by myself. Unfortunately, they seemed to just show up without warning throughout the day.
Once I’d calmed down a little, I went into the house with a forced smile on my face.
