Masked

Apart

The night he left was so hard.

It was harder than saying goodbye the first time.

We were just able to be. No distractions, just him and I.

He didn't cry, I did.

He kissed me and told me he would see me soon.

That  wasn't even soon enough.

I stood on my wooden porch and waved to him as his car trailed out of my driveway.

I was alright on my own but I was so much better with him.

I was so pleased with the way the weekend went that I was still in a happy mood.

I remember flipping through my cell phone admiring all of the cheesy pictures we had taken.

My favorite was one we took before the hike. The sky was blue in the background and I kissed him on his cheek.

He was making the goofiest face and my smile was undeniably present.

I held my phone for some time staring at it before I was distracted by my mother returning.

She asked me how I felt and surprised me with my favorite dinner to cheer me up.

Louis had called me as soon as he got home and we talked for two hours.

One thing I always admired about him was his constant need to live in the moment. There was never even one thought he about the future, everything was in the present. He never talked about the next day, month or year.

I on the other hand was the opposite, always needing to know everything in advance.

More and more I felt myself dropping the habit of constantly needing to know "What's next?"

It always made him smile to know that I was finally giving my mind a rest.

>>>>

Two weeks after he left I got a phone call from him early in the morning.

I was confused but delighted to see his name on my screen.

I answered eagerly but his heavy breath cut me off.

"Lou?" I asked.

There was a lot of background noise but I could hear him.

"I'm sorry Harry, I'm so sorry Harry," he was out of breath and crying.

"Louis, what are you talking about?" I prayed he wouldn't answer or the phone would cut out.

I didn't want to know.

"I saw her last night," he sobbed into the phone.

He told me about running into her at a party in his town. He explained to me three times how much he had to drink and then he topped it all by telling me he kissed her.

He told me how kissing led to other things.

He told me he hated himself.

He told me he hated her.

At that point none of his words mattered.

"I have to go Lou," I said before hanging up.

I don't remember feeling many emotions.

I wasn't angry, sad or confused.

I placed the phone on my nightstand and stared at the ceiling before falling back asleep.

He called me thirteen times while I slept. 

Three hours had gone by while I remained asleep.

I was awoken by my bedroom door swinging open.

It was him.

I opened my eyes slowly and instantly felt happy to see him.

"Tell me if we're over, tell me right now. I need to know," he screamed at me.

I sat up in the bed and stared at him.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

He began to yell some more until I calmed him down with my words.

"I'm not mad at you."

"Why not?" he gasped.

"Would you be mad at me if this happened?" I challenged him.

"Of course. I would be crushed and I would never talk to you again," he spit out.

"Okay, then I think that you're mad enough at yourself for the both of us."

"That makes no sense Harry. Why the fuck aren't you mad? Do you even care about me?"

"Of course I care about you but I'm not surprised this happened," I said calmly.

"Oh so you just expected me to fuck up," he screamed at me.

"I didn't say that," I said while staring at the floor.

Neither of us said a word for five minutes.

"It meant nothing," he broke the silence.

"I know."

He sat next to me on my bed as soon as he started to calm down.

"I just assumed that this would be a bigger deal, I'm sorry for yelling," he said.

"I just want you to know that no matter how confused you are, no matter how many mistakes you make, no matter what you say I will always love you," I told the truth.

I remember thinking how much more hurt I would have been if it was a guy and not her.

It was all he knew for so long. I couldn't blame him for feeling safe in that situation.

We made love twice before he left.

He couldn't stay because he had work early the next morning.

I didn't cry when he left, he did.