The Choreographer

27: Metaphor

It's 11:54 and I'm sitting in Harry's driveway. I'm nervous. I still have six minutes. But it's weird to sit out here in his driveway. What if he checks to see if I'm here? I brought over his stuff in boxes. I changed my mind this morning. I do not have a good feeling about today.

I get out of the car and walk up the path to his front door, holding a box, his house key neatly on top. I hope my things are easy to get. I want to be gone as soon as I possibly can.

I knock three times.

Harry opens the door, "Hey," he says.

"Hi." I say. I walk in and set his box down on the table. "This is all of your stuff." I say. "I checked everywhere."

"Oh." He says. "Well, okay." He looks down and then looks back up. "Are you sure?"

"About?" I ask.

"This." He gestures between us.

"No, but you should be." I say. "You are free."

He looks at me. I go to move past him to get my stuff from his room but he stands in front of me. He doesn't say anything but from the look on his face I know he will. I also know that it will be something neither of us actually wants to be said.

"What is wrong with you?" He asks.

"I'm sorry, but you're the one standing in my way." I point out.

"No, why do you always think that you are less than, or undeserving?" He asks, his tone new, angry and hurt.

"Maybe because I know myself better than you do?" I ask, matching his tone, without the hurt. "Maybe because I know my motivations? Maybe because if know you and I will not work out." I say and he flinches at the last words, as if I had hit him.

"Really? That's what you think?" He asks.

"I say what I mean." I tell him.

"Then that's why this relationship is doomed." He stares at me. His voice gradually raises as he speaks again. "Because you aren't willing to accept that maybe you could let someone in and they wouldn't want to hurt you!" Full fledged screaming now.

I scream back. "You're so smart Harry! Why did it take you so long to see that?!"

He stops and just looks at me. He shakes his head. "You are something else." I know that this is not a good thing.

"Preach." I say as I brush past him upstairs, to reclaim the part of me that once lived with Harry.

***

Forty five minutes have passed, it took me a while to find boxes without asking Harry and then some more time to find all of the things I had here.

I made sure to find every bobby pin, all of my hair ties, clothes, shoes, and even that stupid mug. I want this to be erasable. You might see the smudges if you look close enough, but you could still easily write over it.

That's what I want.

I push my blonde hair away from my face. My shield, my armor, my everything that makes me, me. What allows me to be impenetrable to human emotion. I am a fortress. How dare Harry try to climb the walls.

I clear out my drawers and find my socks underneath his bed. I hope I don't see Harry on my way down.

"Hey." Harry says standing in the doorway. I jump.

"Hi." I say, I don't want to talk to him.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you." He says.

I laugh. "Yes you should have. Assert yourself for once. If you are angry let someone know about it Harry. Maybe you can save yourself from something like this in your next relationship."

"Do you think I want a next relationship?" He asks, getting frustrated again.

Harry is my mirror. I act as he does, so irritation and frustration follow. "I think I want you to move on."

Harry looks up. "Are you that dense Isabel? I love you. I have not stopped loving you!" He says, he's not yelling but he's louder, more passionate.

"What happens when love isn't enough?" I ask.

"But it is." He says.

"No, Harry, you are wrong." I grab my box and move past Harry, down the stairs.

"Do you love me?" He asks.

"It doesn't matter." I say.

"Why not? Why doesn't what you want matter?" He runs down the stairs after me.

"Because what I want will never be enough Harry! It will never make this a great relationship, or me more open and caring! It will not happen!" I'm yelling. I turn away and walk down the rest of the stairs.

"Please," he says.

"I want you to go out there and fall in love Harry. I want you to fall so hard that you think you're going to die from the impact only to realize that the one you fell for caught you before you crashed. I can't be her Harry. You've already hit the ground." I sigh. "That is what I want."

He doesn't follow me as I walk out the door or get into my car. I see him sitting on his front stoop as I back out of his drive.

I don't let myself cry until I'm halfway home.

***

I think that loving someone isn't just a feeling, it's a decision. I think it's the decision to love someone's good bad and ugly. I think that's why it's so hard to stop loving someone. Feelings are fickle, they are in the moment, a decision is deep rooted. I think that's why it hurts so bad to know that Harry and I are over. To know that Harry will fall in love with someone else, and that I'll see her in magazines. I will cry then too, I know I will.

I will cry but I will not regret. Harry will find someone much better than me, and he will be happier than he could have been with me. I cannot be sad about that. I cannot be sad for his happiness.

I sit in my bed and watch the television, as I flip channels I see something about Harry, I stop to look at it. It's a reporter talking to Harry as he walks along the street.

"How does it feel to have broken up with Isabel? Sources saw you two exchanging boxes today." The reporter with shiny black hair says.

"It...it..." Harry pauses and stops walking. "I'm going to be honest with you. Have you ever lost something, like a social security number or something like that, and you freak out, because you know that if anyone else has it, it will ruin your life?"

"It has never happened personally, no, why?" The reporter asks.

"Because Isabel is my social security number. She isn't just something that I want, though I do want her, she is something that I need. If I ever have to witness anyone else with her, it would ruin my life. Much like someone getting ahold of a social security number would." Harry pauses. "Is that a bad metaphor?"

The clip ends there and I wonder what in the world I am supposed to do with this new information. At least Harry won't ever have to see me with someone else, I already know I could never be with someone else.