Never Meant To Be

Have you ever had that one person in your life that no matter what else, or who else, happens, you always want? Want with a bone deep, heart stopping need that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever? That one person that has a playlist, maybe even four playlists on your Ipod; that one person that every time someone says “think of someone”, is the person who comes straight into your head? That one person that you always wish was there, but never is? That one person who holds your heart in their hand and they probably don’t even know it? That one person you long desperately to see, but dread seeing at the same time?
Of course you do, we all have that one someone, somewhere out there. Sometimes they leave our life for good and other times they stay in our life, prolonging the hurt, the hopes, the dreams. Sometimes, if we’re lucky, we might get to be with that person. But most times, they are simply the one that we can’t have, the one that almost was but never was, the one that got away, the one that makes us dream dreams that aren’t possible. Making us ache, making us have to pretend every single day, just to get through, that it doesn’t matter, that they don’t matter. That person, whom every time something bad or good happens, is the one you want to call. When you have a bad dream in the night, it’s them you want there to hold you, no matter if you are by yourself or with someone else. No matter how bad that person is for you, only they can make you feel right.
And there is no room left in your life for any other someone, no matter how much better for you they are. Because they are not him. Or her, if that’s your person. It doesn’t matter which; we all have that person that we would give up very single other dream we ever had, just to have one night, or one more night with. One night to feel them fill us up, fulfil our dreams; stop our tears for a short while. Make us breathe, really breathe, like it is the first time we have ever drawn breath. That one that makes us curl into a little ball and wish for sleep so that for a brief time our lives aren’t ruled by what they are doing, why they aren’t calling, and most of all, why they aren’t there with us.
That someone that everyone else is held up to and the everyone else always fall short. That someone that no matter how many times you promise yourself you won’t, you drop everything for. That someone whose kiss sizzles on your lips, days, weeks, months after they last kissed you. That someone whose voice is what you hear when the wind tickles past your ear. That someone who is the last thing you think of, the first thing you think of, that someone who has you awake at 3am, crying great big rasping sobs because they aren’t there with you.
You meet other people, kiss other people, sleep with other people. They don’t even put a drop in the void. There is only that one person who can do it, and that one person might not ever be your person. What then? You live with the shadows behind the smile, the tears behind the laughter, and the “I love you’s” behind the “I don’t cares.”
My person is James. I loved James before I even met him; despite everything I heard about him, there was something about his very name that kept drawing me to him, giving me an anticipation of finally meeting him. And on the day I did meet him, I knew and he knew. I know he knew and I know he still does know, and that is why we are both still stuck in the same endless circle of coming and going from each other. Because James is good at hiding from things he doesn’t want to admit to. He doesn’t do commitment, or love, or relationships. James loves freedom, being loose, having lots of girls after him. And James knows that if he were to let himself really feel what he does for me, he would have to give all that up. And that scares him. I am his person too. But the choice for us not to be together is his. And a lifetime with me, of loving me and being loved by me scares the living daylights out of him. Because he can’t commit, he can’t be with one person, no matter how right they are.
You know that feeling you get when you are really looking forward to something? Really, really craving a particular thing? Like, maybe when you are a kid and it is a chocolate ice cream? A treat. You know how much you love it, the taste of it, and the feel of it. But you have a weird kind of feeling about it. Because although you can’t wait to taste it, you also know that once you start you won’t be able to stop. And you want to take your time and savour it, not wanting it to be gone. But eventually you succumb, and you start eating that ice cream, and eventually it is gone, and all you want is the taste of it again, to have that chocolate sundae sitting right in front of you, bringing you absolute pure pleasure.
That’s how James feels about me. He is so scared of how good it is, how good it would be, but more scared of what would happen if it was finished, if we weren’t a part of each other’s lives at all, so he would rather not taste it, not know how good it really was, so that he wouldn’t have to face losing it. But he still wants that sundae right there in front of him, giving him comfort, making him feel pleasure, just to look at, and maybe take a little bit of a mouthful every now and then.
I don’t feel like that. I would jump in, not even thinking about an end. Because there wouldn’t be one. We are meant to be, him and me. We are soul mates. He has no idea of the depths of my love for him, and it would make him run a mile if he had any idea I felt this strongly. But it wouldn’t keep him away from me; he always comes back eventually. He wants me, he needs me, but he just doesn’t know what to do. So he keeps me at arm’s length, counting on my love to just put up with it and be there for him whenever he needs that bit of reassurance. He doesn’t know how much I cry, how every time I kiss another guy that it is his taste, his feel, his arms that I am imagining. There is not a day that goes by, not an hour that goes by, without me thinking of him, and then immediately vowing to forget about him.
One day, I know, if he doesn’t ever commit in some way, I will have to move on. I don’t know how or when I will do that. How much time do I give him, how many chances, how long do I keep holding on for? He is my forever, so maybe I will always be holding on. I’ll know I’m strong enough when I can delete his photos and the phone messages. But for now, they give me comfort, like he is just there with me, always. And yet, here I am standing in the airport, running away from him, like in some way I am moving on. But the photos are still there.
I know he stays away because of how strong, how right we are. It scares him. He keeps his distance because when we are together, there is nothing that can keep us apart. We gravitate together, our orbits sync. Sparks fly, there is something tangible but indefinable there. Everyone sees it. Everyone sees the spark, the inability to not be touching, looking, and checking in on each other whenever we are in the same space. We are like two halves of the same whole, but he is too scared of becoming a whole, needs to stay his own separate half. Maybe together we would smother each other, unable to let go, let anyone else in. We have our own world that no one else belongs in, he is my all, I am his all, and he cannot allow another person, even his soul mate, to possess his whole. Too much control, too much trust, too much love, not enough bravery.
But if I push him just a little bit, I see the walls move, feel the barriers come down, just a bit, just for a short time. It makes me scream and cry when he doesn’t contact me and I vow and declare that’s it, I will never speak to him again, if I’m not important enough to see, to talk to. But then it goes for too long, and I cave and call or text. Or he will call me and I will cave and answer. His voice, oh his voice, when I am talking to him, just has me imagining taking off all his clothes. He makes promises to see me and then breaks them. And still I hold on, not giving up hope, not giving up on him, not giving up on the us that is meant to be.
And I want him, how I want him still. It comes out in great big gulping moans when no one else is around. I want him so much it hurts. Enough to make me wrap my arms around myself, like that can take away all the hurt. I’ve been in relationships since I met him. But no one else is him; no one else can fill me up the way I want him to. No one else can touch the inside part of me that only belongs to him. I’ve lived less than half my life, but I know that for the rest of it, I will want him, no matter who else is there beside me. Because they are not him, they don’t taste the same, or feel the same beside me. But he’s with her and I did nothing to make him want me, only did enough to push him away, make him think I didn’t want him at all. I took other people home, because he didn’t want me with him. I tried to pretend it didn’t matter, and now it has come to this.
I am alone, he doesn’t call; I don’t want to go out and find someone else to take away the hollowness. Because I have found that even when I do, the next morning I wake and it is all still there. The hollow, right inside of me, the hollow that he used to fill and now has left behind. I was too broken, too hurt and too scared to let him know how I really felt, so he left, left to her arms, and now he is with her, all the time, every night, and I don’t care, or at least I pretend not to. I fill my days and nights with lots of someone’s that only drive him further away. Soul mates in the wrong life.
Forget him, forget him, the words echo over and over in my head. Don’t let him go, the whisper of my heart argues. And yet he is not mine to let go, never was. Not lovers, but not just friends either. He is the one who holds my heart, my future, my dreams and my tears. And he doesn’t even know it. Because everytime we talk, which isn’t as much anymore, I put on my great big tough front and pretend I don’t care at all what he thinks of me. Take me as I am or watch me as I leave. And yet I can’t leave him alone, and somehow, for some reason, he can’t leave me alone either. It would be easier if we could. Just one, big, definite break, but that is something neither of us can do; even though I am here at the airport, I know I haven’t let him go, and I know that this break will not be forever either.
We still keep coming back, keep falling back to each other, like we are the only ones who can save the other, but neither of us will admit it. Least of all him. And I keep doing everything I can to piss him off, make him go away, make him finally say enough is enough. But he won’t. And I still pick up my phone every time he calls, although I want to ignore him and then send him a text to tell him how much I really hate him. Hate him enough to shag every other guy I can, trying to drive the memory of his touch right out of my veins, where it has sat since the first time.
The reality is, if he really wanted me, wanted to be with me, then he would be, and I am struggling to understand why three years later, he still fills up every single part of me, until I go out drinking and I can pretend he doesn’t exist. Because you have one of those, don’t you, one of those who either got away or is still there, holding you captive, and you don’t know if they know or not. And you don’t want to say anything, cause a little bit of them is better than nothing at all. Isn’t it?
His name whispers through my soul, my blood, at the most inopportune moments. I try and resolve to never think of him again, and then it is there, his name in my head, reminding me of all I could have had and all I have lost. All I have is his name, his memory, our moments that have been, and moments that could have been but never will be. We have had our time, our chances, and we threw them all away, thinking we would have tomorrow. But tomorrow never comes, it is lost in the ashes of yesterday’s broken promises. Everything I ever wanted is right in front of me, and it will never be. And how does life go on when you know what it is you want, can reach out and touch it, but you can’t have it? And how do you move on to something else, settle for something different, something not quite right, when the totally right is there all the time, completely fucking up every single relationship because the person falls short? No one compares to him, on any level, and now I know that if I can’t have him, I will be by myself. I will not settle for vanilla now that I have had chocolate.
And would I run to him if he told me to? Damn right I would – without hesitation – even knowing what I know, knowing that he would destroy me, break my heart into a million pieces and cast my pride to the wind. I would still do that – just for him. He is my Clyde, my Narcissus, my Spencer Tracy and the Kennedy to my Monroe. Some things were just never meant to be; no matter how we feel about them….and he is always going to be my unfinished business. Because there is nothing left to finish. He and I have nothing to hold on to but the windswept strands of yesterday’s games. We have nothing to hold on to but our feelings and desires, dampened down by what is expected of us and what is safe. He wants safe and that is why he is with her. Because I will never be safe and he would wonder every damn minute where I was and what I was thinking. When the reality is that he takes up so much of my thinking time there is nothing left for anything else. I am not safe; we are not safe – but we belong. I would challenge him, frustrate him, confound him and anger him. But I would also love him unconditionally, hold him when he needed it, give him passion, life, excitement, honesty and complete and utter loyalty. I will always be in his corner and he will always be able to rely on me – just like he has since we have known each other. He knows I have always been on his side and I will defend him to the end. Even if he is not right I would still defend him because I believe in him and because I love him.
My James, you need to think about what you really want from life. Do you want to be with someone that cherishes you, the person who is right for you, or the person who is safe and easy? Someone you don’t get all worked up over, someone you can live with or without?
Are you prepared to stand alone to fight the binds that other people place on you to try to make you be who they think you should be? Are you prepared to fight every tie, every shackle and every expectation to stand up and be who you really are? Who is to say that what we have isn’t real, and that I am wrong to keep holding on to you the way I do? Deep down I know it’s wrong; but only because you don’t want me the way I want you. You think I’d be over this by now; and yet still sometimes I forget to breathe, just watching you. You, you are everything and yet in my life you are nothing. And that is your choice. If you want to settle for what you’ve got, then go ahead; it’s the rest of your life you are wasting. And mine. But you know what is right and you still choose wrong. But it’s your choice to make and I have no control over that, I can’t stop myself from being swept away in the current of your bad decisions. I wish I knew how to stop touching you, wanting you, being with you. You are never and yet forever, and I try to deny it…but when others see me with you, they know it. Your words are telling me one thing, but your eyes, your hands, your desire, are telling me something else; you are contradictory and infuriating.
And I just want one night with you to get over this. One night; is that too much to ask when you have dangled in front of me for three years? The lines on our faces are getting more wearied, show more of our emotional landscape as we lay ourselves bare, exposing all the dark secrets inside. You are my dark secret and I want you to remain forever buried, but my face gives us away. And you, you’re so strong and brave and cold that you can just turn and walk away, giving up on me, giving up on us and everything we could ever have been. And we are left with nothing but the feeling that somewhere, somehow, we lost the part of us that really mattered because we were too scared to take a chance on us. And pity the man who comes after you. Because they are not you, will never be you, but they will always be compared to you. And still you are there…you keep coming back even though you have made it clear we will not be together. You keep me hanging in there, doubting my doubts, wondering if maybe I really believed hard enough, that it would all work out. When really there is no hope. None at all that you and I will ever be together. Why can’t you just let me go?
Sometimes, some days, I just feel like I am not even in my body, that I am watching the world go by and I am watching myself watching the world. Like I don’t belong, because I belong somewhere else. And sometimes, I wish that someone else was living in my body so I wouldn’t have to deal with the torture of having your name whisper through my head every single second, so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that you are not part of my life, so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that I turn my head to talk to you, and you are never there. And sometimes I wish that other person was living in my body so that I could just be with you all the time, watching over you and protecting you, even though you wouldn’t even know that I was there. Sometimes I just wish, and I don’t even know what it is I am wishing for. I just wonder what our destiny is, how we ended up coming to be here, how we ended up here, in this moment, in this time, out of all the people we encounter in our lives, how was it that you and I ended up meeting?
Destiny, it’s a funny word. Are we destined to be together, or apart? What happens to change destiny? Can we change it, or do we just take the hard road to the destination we were always meant to be at, by our foolish choices and decisions? Or is the road always meant to be that way? If we are meant to be at a certain place, then the decisions we make are not actually our own – they are preordained, to ensure we get to that path, by the way that destiny has determined we should.
So, do I just leave us to destiny? Do I just accept that whatever is now and whatever is meant to be will find a way, and just make my decisions on how I feel, knowing that whatever decisions I make were the ones I was supposed to make anyway, whether I wanted to make them that way or not? Feeling helpless and out of control; I cannot see my destiny, and I don’t know what it is anymore. I don’t know if it is you, and maybe it’s right that I don’t know, because then I would make conscious decisions based on what I know the outcome will be, rather than make the decisions that fate has determined I should make blindly, and miss out on what I am supposed to learn.
Most people come and go in our lives. Some stay, they are friends and family; others come and go and then you have a serendipitous moment when you bump into someone you haven’t seen for years and you talk like it was just yesterday that you saw them. And others, others just like you James, are always coming in and going away, and all they leave are unseen scars, reminders of the bad decisions and mistakes of yesterday, a reminder that sometimes, some things are better off out of your life altogether, so you can actually heal and not keep picking the same old scab expecting to not see it bleed one time.
You want me, I want you; but we are not to be in this lifetime, maybe in no lifetime. Somebody else has what I want. Be in my corner – please, for once in this – don’t wait for the change. Our time will come and we will fight every single obstacle in our way, but no one else will know what we have fought through, how many times we have been on our knees, how many times we have ignored “no”. “No” we should never have been, “no” we could never be, and yet look, look at us now, we are all and more than anyone thought we could ever have been.
Catch the last breath, the last glance and hold it forever in your hand, so you can just crush the life out of it when you have finally decided you have had enough. Tortured and twisted, the pain of holding on to you is worse than the pain of not having you. Keep your eyes closed, so you can’t see tomorrow, so you can hold on to yesterday and all that you could have been, instead of what you are now; that person you don’t like looking back at you in the mirror. Take a knife to the image; slash it so you don’t even know what it represents anymore.
I let the words fall from my heart, and you are there with me, catching them all, storing them up so you can remember them when I am not there to tell them to you. And as I kneel before you I close my eyes, and let forever wash over me as you smile because you have won again, and I am here with pieces of you and pieces of me, and I realise that they are two separate puzzles and none of the parts connect to make a whole. And when I open my eyes you are gone, and I am left here looking for you everywhere I go. Our song is playing, and I dance with the shadow on the wall, my arms wrapped tightly around myself to stop me from falling to pieces, pieces you could never find and would never be able to heal.