Time to Let Go (Short story)

I wasn't ready.

I knew for a fact that things wouldn't pan out the way I wanted them to, but I kept pushing myself either way. You were the opposite, thought the opposite, you had so much hope and shone bright right from the beginning. I didn't think you could have the ability to bring out the best in people, let alone, me; I didn't think there was any good anyone could bring out of me, ever.

But you did. You were kind and honest, always supportive and your enthusiasm was contagious. I should have told you more often that your attributes made me change my mind about a lot of people. There was a time where I thought I didn't deserve you and you proved me wrong. You taught me that I deserve good things, the best things. That I deserve to be loved, cherished and that my company was precious.

I'm guessing that is the kind of stuff you learn at home, from your parents and everyone else in your family.

I didn't have that.

All I had was despair and conflict. You taught me that there was more in life than that and even though it was hard for me to start seeing the big picture for what it is, you managed to take me to the finish line, either way. You did so much for me. I don't know how or what gave you the strength and the ability to do that, but you did.

So that's why coming into your place right now and seeing my pile of books on the table by the door and my clothes on the couch, and my toothbrush, and my camera, and all of it just waiting for me is just so sad and at the same time, so normal.

I should be devastated by this but... I'm not, I don't think I'll ever be.

Of course I had to come by while you were at work because I wouldn't want to see you see me picking up my stuff without flinching even a little bit.

I guess I'm built differently? I don't know. I just have been absolutely sure that somehow, I was gonna screw this up, I was gonna make it not work. These kind of situations make me wonder if there is something wrong with me. You would always say that there isn't but I'm still not convinced why would anyone let love whither and fade as I did with the love you gave me. Of course, I'm not saying I did that intentionally. I can't have the intention of not loving someone back if it feels like there is no love to give back in the first place.

Why is it that I can't love? I think that would make for great conversation, you were always so intuitive about this stuff.

Your apartment feels empty right now. So different from when we were cooking, watching a movie or just hanging out, each one on their own thing. I could be reading something and you could be on your laptop and knowing you were there made me feel as if the world wasn't as bleak as it usually feels.

Your apartment feels empty because what we built isn't here anymore. I could go to your bed and lie down and it would still feel like it isn't home anymore.

Some people go through breakups and separations feeling like they had just witnessed the end of the world and it's so hard on them. You told me that you just needed some space to process it all and I got that. I'm sure you didn't expect me to just spring this decision on you, and tell you that it was best if we went our separate ways, but the fact that you didn't force me to stay speaks a lot about how much you knew me.

It doesn't feel like "the end of the world", to me. I doesn't feel like anything and that isn't the weirdest part of it.

A text comes in, my phone chirps.

"Are you done picking up your things? I'm coming home sooner than I thought, we were left off a bit earlier at work today".

I froze for a few seconds, didn't know what to say.

"Uhm, not yet, no. Why?".

"Maybe you could wait for me and we could have dinner together".

"Are you sure?".

"Yeah. I think it'd be great. You in?"

"I mean, I'm already here, so..."

"Right. I'll see you in a bit".

Memories come flooding in like whitewater. I could hear you laughing in my head and telling stories about how you, your brothers and your cousins spent time together and your grandfather's ranch in Tennessee, about how your pet horse was so clever to make you fall each time you rode him...

You were so full of life. And every time we sat down together and talked and talked and talked, I always wondered what that felt like.

A few hours go by. I make myself useful by tidying up the apartment a little bit, putting my clothes on the suitcase I brought over and the books, the toothbrush. I make sure nothing is out of place, and then just sit down on the couch to check my phone. My mom left me a voice note.

"Hi darling, I hope you're doing okay. Are you done picking up your stuff from Layla's? Her father called me and said she was having a hard time lately, with everything that's going on at her job and all... You think you can talk to her and see if she's okay?".

I wonder if staying for dinner is a good idea. Maybe this isn't the best time to be spending time with you.

The door's lock clicks over and the knob turns. Too late to jump out of the window.

– Hi. Did I take too long? Traffic's been horrible today, so sorry.

– No, no, you're alright, I don't have anything to do right now, so...

– Oh, okay then. Did you think of something to cook for dinner?

– Not really, no. I was thinking maybe we could order takeout?

– Oh sure. Pizza?

– Yeah, I don't mind.

A little exchange that feels as if nothing ever happened and we're still together. Why is that?

You look calm, focused. You don't look as having a hard time with your job and everything to me. On the contrary, you seem to be in control, like a lot, rather than just lethargic, which is kind of how I feel about everything right now.

Pizza guy rings the doorbell, delivers the stuff, walks out and as always, you tip him generously. You're just so wholesome, oh my God.

– Can I help you with that? – I take the pizza box from your hands and place it on the kitchen's counter, pick up a couple of plates and some napkins, ration the pizza and then walk to the couch again.

– Doesn't Giaccomo's pizza taste better each and every time? This guy gets it, oh my God – Listening to you talking while you have food in your mouth has to be the sweetest, most adorable thing in the world – I wouldn't know what to do if that place went broke.

– I haven't eaten any other pizza that is as close to perfect as this.

– John, how have you been?

– I don't know how to answer that.

– I don't want to make small talk about the pizza, for God's sake. I wanna know how you are doing.

– Uhm... I don't know. I guess I thought I was gonna be a mess if we ever broke up. What do you see when you look at me? Do you see a mess?

– I don't know. I can't read you as well as I did. That's why I'm asking you.

– Do you ever think about-- Do you ever imagine what I could have done differently?

– No, I don't know. I don't think you did anything wrong. I mean, sure, there have been some moments in which I thought that maybe you weren't as happy as you said you were but I couldn't hate you for that.

– Why couldn't you?

– Because I didn't think hating you would be productive in any way.

– So you think I should have been more honest?

– You were always honest. You're being honest right now. I don't know if that's what I meant.

We go quiet and continue to eat the pizza. My phone's bursting with messages from clients from work, I haven't replied for while because I was trying to come up with a way to stay present during dinner and our conversation.

– I just want you to be happy, y'know? – I muttered while looking at my phone.

– Hm. You think I'd be happier on my own? – You said inquisitively. Still trying to read me, still trying to understand what is going through my mind right now.

– I think I'm not capable of offering you the kind of happiness you deserve. I think it's time to let go.

– Time to let go? How so?

– Yeah. I can't continue to push myself to hold on to the idea of being in a relationship if I don't feel I bring anything into it.

– I see. You think you didn't teach me anything, that you didn't fulfill my expectations in any way?

– I don't think I can fulfill anyone's expectations.

– Why's that?

– I guess I'm not built that way.

You stare into my eyes and it feels like something's burning inside. I guess I truly wasn't as honest as we both thought I was, because this conversation is being very hard on me right now.

– Layla, I just think...

– What?

– I just think that it's best if I just disappeared.

– What? Don't say that.

– What? I'm not trying to be dramatic or anything...

– No, it's not that. I mean, sure, maybe our time as a couple is up but that doesn't mean that I want you to go away forever, y'know?

– No? Uhm, I just don't want to continue to drain you, drain your energy, y'know?

– Don't think like that. I have never said I'm tired of you or anything. Keeping you company is just... Different.

– Yeah but even though you don't say it, I can still see it, you know what I mean? I can still see you struggling to understand and to be present, and to handle everything else and I don't want to be the thing that drags you down.

– Right, but you're not, John!

As you shout out loud my name, you get up from the couch, take your plate to the sink and start washing it a bit frantically.

– I don't know how you ended up feeling that way about yourself, about us! You were never dragging me down, you were my light, okay!?

– Layla, calm down...

– Don't tell me to calm down, John, okay!? I don't understand what went wrong! – You start sobbing, I get up, compose myself and take a deep breath.

– Layla, I'm leaving now.

– No! No, no, no, please! Don't go. Don't leave, please. Please, hear me out.

I can feel my stomach just sinking into itself.

– I'm here. I'm not leaving.

You continue to cry, pose yourself over the counter, head down and your hair falling over your face. Tears begin to burst from my eyes too.

– What, Layla, what?

– I can't do this on my own, John. I can't.

– What? What are you talking about?

– I love you too much, John. I love you too much to let you go, to let you leave and just watch you self-destruct, because right now you're doing okay as you might say, but I know you. And I know you're just gonna lose interest in everything and you'll just fade like a dying star or something.

– How do you know that? C'mon, I'm not doing that, okay? I'm not!

– John, can't you see it? It's been months since you lost your old job, and I know you haven't found anything else yet! I know you have also been avoiding calls from clients who want to work with you because they have called me too.

– Yeah, what about it?

– You don't have to be the perfect, smart, in control, handsome guy you think you have to be to be with me or with any other woman, John! Or anyone else. You just give up, you fail once and that's it, but that's not the point, see? I don't mind supporting you through the bad times. I just wanted you to see that you're enough for me, even when you lose.

– Oh, yeah? Alright then, you're saying all this stuff and I guess I know where it comes from but that's not all, okay!? That's not all, Layla.

– Alright then, what else is there? Go ahead, then, tell me.

– I don't know, okay? Layla, I can't give you an answer right now because I haven't figured it out yet, okay? It's been years and years and years, since I was a kid-- I don't know.

– Then why don't you seek help? It's so frustrating! I want you to see yourself as I see you, John! I want you to see that you are worthy of the love people around you are willing to give you and that you're enough! You're enough!

– I don't know. I don't know what to say. And honestly, I didn't come here to make you upset, Layla, I'm sorry.

– No. No, don't be sorry. Look at me, John.

– What?

– This is how love looks like. You can leave, that's fine. Sure, you might get out of this situation right now, but what happens when someone else feels this way for you again? You're just gonna leave that person too?

– What? C'mon, Layla.

– I'm being serious. What happens then? You just continue to leave everyone who loves you because it's just too much for you?

– I don't know! I don't know how to answer that, okay?

I sit on the couch and stay silent. You walk to your room, enter the bathroom and start taking your jewelry off.

– Seriously, man.

I stare at the kitchen's window and notice the sky is turning grey, I wasn't aware that today is going to rain.

– I wasn't ready, Layla.

– What?

– I wasn't ready!

You come out of the bathroom with a towel on your hands, you washed your tears away and now are trying to stay composed.

– You weren't ready?

– I have never been ready.

You sit down beside me and just hug me.

– I have to go.

– John...

I get up, pull the suitcase and open the door. I take one good look at you, at the sadness on your face. I look at the apartment and see a broken dream.

I close the door behind me and walk to the elevator.

I come out of your building, walk up to the car, pull the suitcase into the trunk and just look up and see your window. The lights from the kitchen and the living room go out.

It's time to let go.

Fin.