A Scene in the Rain

I’m not proud. Love makes idiots of us all.

We ended our relationship just short of our three-year anniversary. He moved a few hours away to go to college, and although we agreed it was for the best, we still spoke frequently.

When I say frequently, I mean almost daily. We ended each conversation with “I love you.”

You can see why I might have misunderstood. It seemed that, although we had said the words that ended things, nothing else had changed.

One evening, while we were talking on the phone, I could sense a shift. His voice seemed less warm. He was in a hurry to get off the phone. I was confused. Changes like this shouldn’t happen overnight. As we were hanging up, I took a deep breath. “I love you.”

There was a moment’s pause. I heard the phone click.

A specific word should be designated to the emotion I felt in that moment, since I know I’m not alone in experiencing it. The words I can think of, like shock, heartbreak, fear, disbelief, sadness, and anger, just didn’t fit the horrible sensation I experienced at the sound of that click.

A cycle of thoughts whipped through my brain. Something was wrong. He hadn’t meant that. He would never. He couldn’t ever. I needed to see him. There must be an explanation.

I only had a vague concept of the time. Darkness and cold rain fell heavily as I started my car and sped off. The hours passed without my notice. Although I had only been to the campus once before, I parked in front of the dorm with no real memory of how I had found my way.

I stared through the rain at the lights of the building. It wasn’t until this point that I realized how completely insane it was to show up like this. I paused briefly, but I couldn’t end my 150-mile journey 10 yards short of my destination.

I got out of my car and walked briskly to the entrance. The door was locked. Damn campus security.

I stood there for a moment at a loss for what to do. I looked around, shifted from foot to foot, and continued peering through the glass, hoping some kind soul would let me in.

The rain had drenched me to the skin before I saw anyone. A tall blonde girl came through the side door laughing at something someone had said behind her. I lifted my hand to knock, but stopped abruptly. He was right there. Following the girl into the foyer, he smiled down at her and placed his hand at the small of her back as they began to ascend the stairs.

I was immobile. I shouldn’t be here. I needed to leave, but I couldn’t feel my legs.

As they rounded the corner, the girl looked back and saw me standing at the door, hand still raised as if to knock, soaked by the continual downpour.

I read her perfectly formed lips as she turned to him and asked if they should let me in.

He hadn’t looked away from her yet, so when he turned his eyes, I knew his expression was for me. In it, I read his shock and confusion, with a tinge of disgust.

I found my mobility then. I ran.

I had almost reached my car when I heard my name and his footsteps behind me. I hadn’t realized I was crying, but when his arms surrounded me and pulled me in, the tears turned into a raging torrent of sobs.

As he pulled me to him, my emotions burst out with fury. I beat his chest with my fists. I yelled. I hated her. I hated him. I hated how stupid I had been to come here, to have ever met him, to love him. Fuck you. I love you.

People say all sorts of things when under duress.

He didn’t respond. He just let my tirade taper out. Soon, I had nothing more to say, and the rain masked the quiet tears on my face.

I stepped back. There was a moment of silent communication, which he reaffirmed by saying, “You should go.”

I nodded and opened my car door. He took a small step forward, and I looked back.

His damnable pauses.

“Be safe.”

I nodded again.

The blur of time that occurred on my drive to the campus was mirrored in my drive home, but for a different reason. The nameless emotion that fueled the night’s visit had been drained. The new feeling was equally lacking in description, but that could be the result of not feeling much of anything.

It was still raining when I got home. I walked into my dark apartment and stood there dripping. Ashamed and defeated, I finally faced the truth.

It was the end.