Looking Back

“Let’s talk about the weather.”

The guy across from me regarded me with a blank stare. His lips twitched and a shrug graced his shoulders before words fell from his lips.

“Why the weather?”

I smiled.  “Because, that’s what people with nothing to say; talk about.”

His eyes traced my face. I could only imagine he found me wanting in some way, because he turned forward, completely void of any expression.

The park was quiet. A few runners traveled along the paths behinds us and geese honked from the pond.  We sat on a bench, positioned as far apart as it would allow. The curved iron armrest bit in to my back as I leaned against it. He continued to stare out in front; so I stared at him.

Nothing had changed since our parting so many months ago. His hair was shorter but he looked the same, golden with bright blue eyes in a face carved of stone. Even as I searched his face, trying my hardest to come upon some flaw that would give me insight into what he was thinking; I could not. John always had the luxury of being impassive.

Now I could only wonder if his detachment had truly been the pretense, I had believed. Looking at him now, I couldn’t be sure he had ever cared.

“Why did you want to talk?” John was still facing forward as he spoke, staring out at the pond as if it contained the meaning of life or if jumping in would save him from this conversation.

I could have said a million things. Gave him all my reason for calling, instead I backed him into a corner.

“Why did you agree to come?”

His jaw twitched again. This time I suspected it was more in frustration than amusement. 

He replied, “Anything in particular you want to discuss about the weather? Patterns, natural disasters, or the new weather girl on Channel 10 that likes to wear low cut tops and short skirts.”

Ah, sarcasm. I had once heard it described as the weak man’s defense in the face of superior intellect. I wasn’t really sure if that were true, I quite liked John’s tone. His face may have given nothing away but at least on some level, I did affect him.

I decided to play along. “Natural disasters have a nice ring to it. Tell me, hurricane or tornado.”

John’s face was back to blank but years of knowing him let me read that he was uncertain of my approach. He took his time making a thoughtful noise as he pondered my question.

I shifted my position to provide relief for my aching back, while trying to get some blood flow to my legs that had been folded for too long.

Once upon a time, I would have simply stretched out and laid them across his lap. His tense shoulders at my movement, however; reminded me that such an act would not be welcome.

He folded his hands under his chin and spoke in a soft tone, “Neither, blizzard.”

“Why?”

John smiled, “Casey, you know why.”

He had turned my plan against me. I had to wonder if he had figured me out.

I wasn’t ready to give in though, so I said, “Blizzard huh? I suppose I can figure out why that would be your preferred way to bite the bullet, but it would only be a guess. Why not just tell me?”

I had made a mistake. The words were out and I could not take them back.
I could tell he had caught my accidental slip. So when he finally turned to face me directly, his eyes never wavering, I wanted to curl into a ball of shame.

John spoke. “Why not just tell you? That is the question you ask me. Are you should this is about the weather? Or was there an actual reason you called me out here?”

Our fragile discourse had already crumbled, and I found myself back on the verge of the conversation that had caused our inevitable split just six months ago.

I couldn’t speak, but John took my silence in stride. His face had never been more beautiful. He was all hard lines and tight lipped, with the shadows of rage dancing in his eyes.

When he spoke, it was in a controlled voice, tight-clipped sounds barely keeping his anger at bay.

“You find this funny, don’t you? Was it not enough to crush me in to a million pieces last year? Did you feel like you need to check to make sure I was still miserable and not moving on with my life? Well did you? Answer me!”

He was agitated and his control slipped with each phrase. His anger burnt me but I didn’t fight against the flames.

“No.”

John looked incredulous. “No? All you have to say is ‘No.’”

I just wanted to shut down. This wasn’t the way this was supposed to go.

John stood. Planting his feet apart, his fist clenched at his side, he stared down at me.

“Tell me right here, right now. What the hell did you want, Casey? I am not playing your perverse little game anymore.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t a game.”

John scoffed, “Its always a game with you.”

That hurt but I couldn’t fault him for thinking it. The balance was shifting in his direction, but I would not be the one to let the ball drop.

“Did you suddenly realize you loved me and couldn’t find a way to say it?”

And there it was.

I had expected him to say it, but never in that voice. My eyes searched his face and all I could see, was what I had always seen, nothing. His voice though, was filled with more hope than my heart could take.

Just like six months before, when he had confessed his love, I couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“No.”

Brief flickers of emotions flew across his face but his stoic appearance prevailed.

“Of course not.”

His voice had deadened and his eyes were flat. He breathed in and exhaled. I couldn’t help but feel that it was symbolic in some way.

He spoke again. “I’m leaving.”

He didn’t bother to say never to call him; I think he knew I never would again. I watched him walk away expecting it to be stiff and forced but he glided along as if a weight had been lifted.

For him, maybe it had. I wasn’t so fortune. My chest was tight and my aching back forced me to finally change positions. I stood and crossed the grass to stand at the ponds bank.

I tried to imagine the what ifs. Every possible answer, and the consequences they would have wrought. I could think of nothing to change the damage; I had already done.

Six months ago, he had not let his unrequited love deter him. John had pushed for my reasoning. His words “Why not just tell me?” had been bitter and cold. It had all been in vain, because I had no answer to give him.

Then today, I toss his words so flippantly back in his face. And today, he didn’t fight it.

I wasn’t sure what hurt the most. Knowing that had I changed my feelings, he would have taken me back or that I had lost any chance with him, regardless if I wanted it.

He had never told me why he came to meet me today. In some way, I feel like the dice had been cast and the future already decided.

My calling him had been a longing for a part of my past. I had wanted to talk to someone that knew me inside and out, no pretending. Only, I was the one pretending.

There can be no going back after ‘I love you.’ John understood that.

My eyes filled with tears, but I only blamed the sun. It was funny, how on a summer day we could only talk of winter.

Blizzards, such an interesting answer. We had broken up in the winter and I knew John wished me to understand how badly I had hurt him.

As I stared obliviously at the pond, my smile was only a little bitter. If John had bothered to ask me the same question, I would have given the same answer.

John would never understand for all his spoken declarations of love, he had  no ability to show it. His way of loving me would never be enough.

Maybe I was heartless for feeling that way. So, I took the blame he laid at my feet and I would carry the weight of it

John had glided out the park, a free man. I walked slow but with my head high.

If all I had learned today was that there was no going back, then at least I had learned.