“My story?” I asked, playing dumb.
“Yes. And this time tell me the truth. Why did you really push everyone away? Why did you really become like this?”
I looked at my drink blankly.
My mind fumbled for the right words while I pretended to idly look at the condensed water droplets slide down the smooth surface of the glass that held my soda. I traced the slithering rivulets with my finger.
He looked at me intently.
I set the glass aside and looked into his eyes. Brown. Like limpid pools of molten chocolate.
I remembered telling him that once. Almost a lifetime ago.
But today there was something old and haunted in them. Something knowing. Something wise.
I looked away, suddenly shy and eager to unload my story onto him.
“Are you sure you really want to know?”
“More than anything.” He reached out and took my hand in his.
I looked up at him, surprised. Then I smiled sadly. And began.
I spoke haltingly at first. Then my words came faster and faster, I couldn't stop.
“Life changed, after you left. I wasn’t the same. Nothing around me was.
Over the months after you left I made myself strong in such a way that my walls were impenetrable. I didn’t let anyone get to me. Or through me.
I stopped talking to people who wanted to help. I pushed everyone away.
You were the only person I wanted. But you weren't there.
And soon enough I realized I wasn’t left with anybody.
Every time I looked in the mirror, I knew I was looking at someone who wasn’t sure she deserved to be loved at all.
I had no friends. Maybe I never had any in the first place.”
“Your definition of a friendship is very different from mine, Tofu”, he interrupted.
I smiled. We both knew that only too well.
“I couldn't find the motivation to search for people I could invest my trust in. Besides, that would be incredibly absurd, wouldn't it? Making new friends only to burden them with stories?
The word 'Relationships' had begun to scare me.
And that's when I realized I'm scared of attachments. Because I believe that every attachment that I have will finally break my heart or leave me.”
“But what happened, Tofu? You were one of the strongest people I knew. You were MY strength. You should have just gone back. They're your friends. They would have understood, I'm sure.”
I laughed out loud. “What happened? Really? I can't believe you're asking me that.”
“Well, I am. Tell me.”
“You.” I said quietly. “You happened.”
“I got scared of losing people after I lost you. I don't have any friends, because I'm scared of losing them. I live in the perpetual fear of breaking ties with the people I love.
I know I'm the one who shut everyone out, but the funny thing is as much as I know how to say sorry, I can’t get myself to say sorry.
As much I love hugging people, I can’t hug old friends and ask them to come back to me.”
“Why? Why is it so hard?” He looked desperate to know. Like a little child craving a piece of candy.
But his ignorance exasperated me.
“Because I couldn’t do it with you.” I answered simply.
“I hugged you and I begged you to come back to me, but you didn't.
You went away and with you, you had my heart aching on a leash, bumping behind you, lurching over leaves and small stones. Bruised and almost broken.
I can’t do it anymore. I've lost that quality; I've lost the ability to call people back.”
I slumped back into my seat, sated and exhausted.
For a long time neither of us said anything.
The many voices in the cafe began to swim into focus. Some in slow moving conversation, some raised in argument. The place suddenly seemed small and dark.
“You know, sometimes you have to be apart from people you love, but that doesn't make you love them any less. Sometimes you love them more.” he said carefully.
I processed what he said.
I felt empty, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was a nice feeling. A feeling of buoyancy. As if I was finally ready to start again, to begin filling myself with good things. Things that were of my own choosing this time.
I looked at him and laughed. A happy laugh. He joined in.
“I love you”, said he, in he midst of peals of laughter.
“I love you too.” I echoed woodenly, wondering if I really meant what I said.
Then I laughed some more.
