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I was so happy when her plane finally landed. I had the ring in a little gift-wrapped box back at the apartment, and I'd stolen a bottle of champagne from a record release party I'd been invited to. But it took very little time to realize that things were going very, very wrong.
She was quiet, reserved, when I picked her up at the airport. She did kiss me, she did tell me she loved me. She didn't say much else. I thought she was tired.
Looking back, I remember that she didn't start unpacking when we got home. She'd already decided she wouldn't be staying.
"Jake," she'd said as I pulled out the celebratory bottle of champagne, "we need to talk."
"Sure, hon. How was your flight?"
I was fishing through the cabinets for a plastic cup, and my hand froze as I heard a sob escape her.
I remember telling myself not to turn around. In the instant that sob came out, I knew. Maybe not everything, but I knew. I knew she was leaving, and I knew why.
"Jasmine," I said, staring into the cabinet, "don't do this." She was crying openly now. After a shaky moment in which I thought she might collapse onto the floor, she stumbled over and fell into the closest chair. Her head sunk down, cradled by her hands. I hadn't turned around, but I could see it play out, warped and wounded, in the curved reflection of the closest glass.
"I'm sorry, Jake. I...we...I'm leaving. I'm going back to Nashville and...I..." she was talking through those staccato gasps that are usually associated with sobbing children.
"Why would you do that?" I don't know why I asked. I already knew the answer.
She cried even harder, then, but didn't answer.
"Is...is it me?"
She put her hand to her chest and tried to control her breathing. Her eyes were closed, her shoulders straightened. And then she said the one thing that could effectively keep me from begging her to stay.
"No. It's me. I'm going back to AJ."
I let out a breath, and it carried with it a quiet "No."
"I'm sorry. I didn't want it to happen. I really thought it would be you. I did, Jake. And I'm grateful..."
"Please stop."
Her brow furrowed, and she stood up. "No, I need you to know that..."
"STOP!" I turned to her at last. Her eyes were wide, but her hands were on her hips and her mouth was drawn tight. "Just go, okay? You didn't need to come all the way up here to say this."
She looked away. "I had to come and get my stuff."
"Oh."
"And I didn't want to do that to you."
"Well, aren't you the hero." I snapped. "You might as well have. It wouldn't have made any difference."
"I'm sorry." She walked to the bedroom and locked the door. And just like that, it was over. The moment was gone, and my happily ever after had turned out to have a built-in timer.
I'd love for it to have turned out to be one of those young love scenarios that you grow out of, or that gets outshone by later relationships. It should have been; we were just children. As wonderful as it was, as happy as we were, I was young enough that I should still have been able to bounce back and heal quickly.
But I still wake up sometimes, after a particularly vivid dream, and think that she's next to me. And other times I just pretend.
- COMMENTS
Pencarrowover 5 years agoto the rest of the story, but (yeah, I know, there's always a “but") I’m always a little skeptical about stories where the girl was the love of his life when they were in school, and he never got over her.
I was young once as well, and I fell heavily in love with more than one girl while I was growing up, but by the time I was in my late twenties I had matured so much that I could look back and see that they had also matured and changed a lot. I think I looked forward in life at that time and never looked back, despite some real heartache that sometimes lasted for over a year after a breakup. I accepted that my ex had either found someone else, or we were just not fated to be together, and time has dimmed those old memories. I’ve now been happily married for over 36 years and I’m still friends with at least 1 of those ex-girlfriends, but I never regret where I am now.
So in real life I’m wary of a guy who mopes around after his girl left him years earlier. In real life people move on and love withers, especially when we are young and have decades ahead of us. The aching heart slowly heals and the pain goes away, and a new woman enters your life and all is good again.
Now don’t get me wrong – I think this is building to be a great story. The fact that he and Jasmine were together for 6 years tells me they were both deeply in love, so her sudden change of heart over a month or two has me asking how could this happen.
The conclusion I jump to is that she re-assessed her love for him and decided that she wanted someone else, or some other factors came into play. Whatever the reasons, don’t dream – it’s over (to quote my fellow kiwi Neil Finn).
Still shaping up to be a bloody good story, though!
Drbeamer3333over 10 years agoThis is building into an exceptional story. Probably your finest.
