Waiting

Waiting

A young woman dressed in black sits alone in an office in a comfy, black leather padded chair with a jacket thrown over the back of it in front of an old wooden desk. She sits precariously close to the edge, fingers tapping on the arms of the chair while she shifts uncomfortably. A severe looking man with greying hair, dressed in a coal black suit enters and sits down behind the desk. The young woman looks up at him and hesitantly begins to talk while fiddling with her necklace.

I know that I never stopped waiting for him but I carried on. I got a job, I made new friends and I moved into a new flat.

Even if I was still waiting for him I could pretend that I had moved on (She smiles sadly). It had been 2 years since I last saw him, almost to the day when he finally returned to me. I should have been angry.

I should have raged and ranted at him for leaving me behind but when I saw him standing outside my door smiling that stupid grin of his saying that same stupid line from our favourite film, "Greetings and salutations" all I could do was laugh and open my door.

We'd known each other for years, years upon years and that's what hurt the most when he left. I could see us everywhere, in every teen couple wandering around in a daze untouched by the cruelty of reality, in every little girl and boy chasing each other. (She laughs hesitantly.) I could make friends easily, keeping them was another thing but with him we were together forever. No matter what stupid things we did.

Sometimes people would ask me how on earth the two of us could even be friends, we were so different. We trusted each other though, enough never to leave and knew that we would always put up with the other even at their worst.

My new friends questioned why this man that I've never mentioned before had suddenly come back into in my life, and all I could say was it was like my other half had finally returned to me. He left for a little while but now he was back so all was forgiven, I suppose.

We had this spot in the park just out of sight and off the path surrounded by trees. We would go there whenever we had the chance. It was our place. He would sit there smoking his cigarettes while I would complain about second hand smoking effects when I secretly loved the smell. I remember once he tried to quit, I swear I suffered withdrawal symptoms with him until he gave in and started again. I think he knew no matter how much I complained I loved the smell and now my new flat smells just like his cigarettes.

He was by far the strangest person I had ever met, like a Rubik's cube only there wasn't a trick to completing him like one day you would get so close and then overnight all the colours would shift around and you would have to start again (She laughs but it is a sad and self-mocking sound). I loved that about him. One year for Christmas I actually gave him a Rubik's cube. He only smirked at me. The idiot gave it back to me a week later completed with that same stupid smirk on his face. I swear never have I met a more infuriating person or a kinder. That smirk of his was always so full of smugness and no matter the situation I always got the urge to hit him when I saw it but he was never malicious, never cruel forever trying to do right by me. (She stares down at her hands before bringing them up to rest on top of the desk) I could never quite get the hang of painting my nails. For some reason no matter how hard I tried, so one day when I was freaking out about how terrible they looked he sat me down and painted them for me. He called me an idiot the entire time but he did it and they turned out perfectly.

The older man sitting behind the desk smiles kindly and looks at her sympathetically before nodding for her to continue.

(She speaks wistfully as though lost in the past) He made himself at home in my flat, claimed my big leather arm chair and would just sit there reading his books. We never mentioned that he had been gone. I couldn't bring myself to. I knew it was strange that he was back. He shouldn't have been even if I was waiting for him I never expected him back. (She looks into the older man's eyes, a pleading expression on her face as her voice gains a note of desperation) I missed him a ridiculous amount and now that he was back it felt like finally after all this time I could be myself again, that I could start living again. I would go out to see my friends and go to work then rush back to see him and it didn't feel real because he had only changed slightly and it was like he was never gone. I admit that I am a very sad person, depending desperately on him just to be okay but I don't remember a time before he left when we weren't together. Obviously we lived separately and took different classes at school but never were we ever truly separated. I had only just started to get the hang of living without him when he came back, only after two years of being alone did I finally become okay on my own.

My friends demanded to meet him, this mysterious man that I had known my entire life but never mentioned. The man who left me but had now come back to me, who could break me as easily as he could heal me. It was odd that whenever I arranged for them to meet he was never there or had something else to do. It was strange and bizarre that he could never be around to meet the new people in my life but it was him and I could always forgive him so it was okay. My friends began to look at me strangely then, every time they arranged to meet him he was somehow mysteriously engaged elsewhere but for some reason that didn't strike me as weird. He was like a stray cat, coming and going whenever he pleased only returning for a safe place, warm bed and food. Whispers began to follow me then. One woman even confronted me telling me how pathetic it was that I was so lonely I had made up a fake boyfriend. I agree that making up a boyfriend just to show off would be rather a pathetic venture but he was real. Always completely real.

It wasn't until one day when I was sitting in a park next to him just lying there when a friend of mine spotted me and ran over. We had been speaking for a while when I noticed she hadn't so much as looked at him. She was seeing me with the mysterious man they were all so curious about and she was completely ignoring him. When she left and we were walking home I began to notice others lack of acknowledgement of him.

Tears begin to fill her eyes as she leaps up from her chair and starts to pace around the room, wrapping her arms around herself.

The dreams started after that. When he first left I began to have nightmares and now they started again once my calm was disturbed. Terrible dreams that I woke up from gasping for breath, clawing at the sheets and even though I know it was basically the same dream over and over, no matter how many times I had it, once I woke up I could never remember it. The moment the air began to fill my lungs again I would breathe it out, letting it slip from my grasp. When I would wake up he would be sitting at the bottom of my bed just looking at me in almost pity. (Her voice becomes harsher, laced with bitterness and her fingernails dig dangerously into her arms) I hated his pity because I didn't pity him. I envied him and I loved him and he looked at me with a pity. Where had he been this entire time, why did I know not to look for him or expect him back when we had been together for so long, why? (She pauses looking uncertain how to continue)

Do you mind if I smoke? (The older man shakes his head motioning to an open window, nodding she reaches into her jacket pocket pulling out her cigarettes and lighter before putting them back once she had lit herself one)

I remember looking down into the abyss, into the darkness of the night and the grey roads because I had remembered the truth. I had stumbled across an old friend and they just couldn't keep their mouth shut. They said it and I remembered and I understand his pity. The wind was ripping through my hair and suddenly he was there, his arms encircling me and together we leaned forward, when strong arms suddenly wrapped around dragging me back, real arms, arms I could feel, could touch. (She lets out a choked sob) He continued to stand on the edge and then he fell with that stupid, stupid smirk on his face and I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I was happy to not remember and I don't know how to be okay. I know now, know why he left and why I didn't look for him. After all I knew where he was the entire time, I could go visit whenever I wanted, and it wasn't like he was going anywhere. But I'll always miss him and I don't want to be alone or without him anymore. (She crushes the cigarette in her hands taking in a hissing breath)