I love her. I think I always have. I think you can love someone you hardly know. The love is like a sense, an innate knowledge. And as you get to know the person, that sense proves right. It’s like an early connection, which just builds and builds.
I can’t believe that at the beginning of this trip she was annoying me. Ilovethe way she is. I love everything about her. I loveherfull stop.
And because I love her I really don’t want to hurt her.
Vinny is right, of course. I do wreck relationships. And I do not ever, ever want to upset or hurt Flavia. She’s a kind, funny, lovely, wonderful, caring person, who deserves better than me. And she’s had a very difficult year. And therefore, for her sake, I should walk away.
I do, though, want to tell her that she wasn’t just a one-night (two-night) stand for me. That she’s so much – infinitely much – more than that. That if I weren’t such a crap partner I’d want nothing more than to be with her forever, but that I’m not right for her.
I stare hard at my shoes. I really don’t know how tostartthe conversation I think we should have, and that she clearly wants to have.
Hang on. I’m perhaps being very presumptuous. Perhaps she was actually about to try to let me down gently, having realised that I’ve fallen head over heels in love with her. Perhaps this actually was just no-strings sex for her and has remained that way.
I stare harder at my shoes.
I really need to get this clear in my head.
Because I’d really like to be with her. I’dloveto be with her. I can’t imagine anything better.Ifshe feels the same way.
Except… I’m being selfish. This shouldn’t be about me, it should be about her. I am not the right person for her. I’m not the right person for anyone. Especially someone who’s recently been through a huge relationship break-up.
I’m still looking at my shoes, and I’m not drawing a lot of inspiration from them.
Maybe…
My phone rings. Flavia.
Heart in my mouth – whatamI going to say? – I swipe to answer.
‘I’m at the gate,’ she tells me. ‘Everyone’s boarding.’
‘Bugger, sorry. Coming.’ I am such an idiot. We can’t really have this conversation easily on a plane but how can we sit next to each other for the whole flightwithouthaving it. I should have thought more quickly.
I check the departures board for the gate number and then hurry to meet her. She’s standing in the queue basically tapping her foot.
‘Ironic,’ she says, fairly frostily, ‘that Mr Punctual nearly missed the flight.’
‘Yeah.’ I pull my phone out of my pocket to show my boarding pass, and as I do so a message pings in, from Annira, a woman I dated for a couple of months in the summer:
Happy New Year! I miss you. Dinner soon… and more?? xoxoxox
My first reaction isno. I don’t want to date anyone if I can’t be with Flavia. I’ll text Annira and wish her a happy new year and tell her that unfortunately I don’t think meeting up is a good idea.
My second reaction is to whip the phone over in the hope that Flavia hasn’t seen the message, only to then raise my eyes to see her looking at the phone, her face entirely expressionless, like she’s wearing a mask.
‘That was no-one,’ I say. ‘A friend. I mean, an ex-friend. Very ex. I mean not an ex-ex. An ex-kind-of-girlfriend. It was just a very loose thing. Very, very over now. On excellent terms. But very ex.’Stop talking.Just stop. I’ve lost my mind.
Flavia’s expression has slipped from expressionless to homicidal.
And, yes. This is exactly what I do. I wreck things, often inadvertently.
‘What I meant…’ I begin to try to explain better.
Flavia silences me with a shake of the head and a finger pointing in the direction of the boarding pass reading machine.
‘Yep,’ I say, and hold my phone out.
We walk down the passage to the aeroplane door side by side but far apart.
