The Definition of Fate

Chapter 5

You want me to be a tragic backdrop
so that you can appear to be illuminated,
so that people can say
'Wow, isn't he so terribly brave
to love a girl who is so obviously sad?'
You think I'll be the dark sky
so you can be the star?
I'll swallow you whole.

- Warsan Shire

Something Gramps told me once before he died comes to my mind. "Don't marry the person you can live with, marry the person you can't live without." This is what's going through my mind as Aaron deflates in front of my eyes, the ring box still proferred before him. His shoulders slouch, and I see the hand holding the box start to shake.

"You...you can't?" he stutters.

I bite my lip as I feel tears spring to my eyes. I never meant to hurt you. I shake my head, my fingers knotting in my lap. What am I supposed to say? Give him the reasons why I can't marry him? I can't justify it with any rationale he's going to accept. I can't tell him that I don't feel the right something between us. I don't want to break his heart any more than I just did by refusing him.

Aaron struggles to his feet, closing the ring box and setting it on the table. He stands in front of me, hands clasped and eyes penitent.

"Did I...did I do something wrong?" he asks.

"No! No, of course not. You didn't," I say. "I just...I can't."

Please don't ask me why, I plead with him, tears in my eyes. I can't tell you why. I can't tell him that he's not enough because he is. He's more than enough. It's us, the two of us together, that aren't enough.

"Are we moving too fast? I...I can wait on the promotion and stay here longer," he pleads with me.

Part of me wants to accept this and pretend like the proposal never happened, but I can't let things continue the way they have been with what I now know I feel. I do love Aaron and I'm sure I always will, but it's not the right type of love. Maybe if I'd never loved Josh this would be enough for me, but it's just not. I love Aaron like a friend or a brother, someone I cherish and adore, someone I'd do anything for and I trust without reservation, but it's not the same. I needed Josh as much as I loved him, like he was the oxygen to my deflated lungs, the color to my grayscale. I care about Aaron, but I can imagine a life without him. It wouldn't be the same, but I could go on. On the other hand, I still struggle to live without Josh; a part of me constantly craves him.

I can't tell Aaron any of this.

"It's...I can't, Aaron. I should be ready for this step, but I...I'm not, and I don't think I ever will be." The words spill out of me as if I've been holding them in for a long time.

How did it take me until today to realize that what I feel for Aaron isn't enough? It's been enough for our casual dating, for visits to my family, for evenings spent laughing and talking. It's been enough for me to heal, but not enough for me to try to love again.

"What did I do wrong?" Aaron asks, pain and puzzlement in his voice. "Just tell me."

"You did nothing wrong," I say, the puddled tears now overflowing at the pain in his pale eyes.

"Then what is it?" he asks. "Is it..." A dark veil passes over his features as he realizes and I feel my stomach sink. He says the name with finality. "Josh."

Defeat is in his voice and in his posture and in his expression. Of course it's Josh; it's always Josh. Even though he left me years ago, he still stands between me and every semblance of happiness. How can Aaron compete with someone who's only a glorified memory?