The Art of Letting Go

4. Remembering You

The Art of Letting Go  

4. Remembering You

Time is constant. It never stops, it never goes faster, nor slower. Time is a healer, it helps you to forget and forgive. A person grows with time, learns and acts.

 Time went away in my life. Before I understood what was happening, Fall had arrived and my sophomore year at college began. I hadn't spoken to him since that day; and with the semester starting the possibilities were less. His college was about ten hours away from mine.

 Had I missed him? Both yes and no were my answers. Yes? Yes, I loved him. I had found a friend in him, someone I could rely on. I missed the conversations, the future expectations and all our plans. I missed his sweet and tender moments. I missed when he teased me and made me mad. 

No? No, I didn't need him. This other part of me liked the freedom I regained. I didn't feel like I was the property of somebody anymore. The fights, the insecurities were things of the past. I felt like I belonged to myself. 

Fall brought changes to my life. With college, works, tests and an active social life, I began to forget about him. It was slow but it was certain, I forgot the way his hands felt tangled with mine, because of all the instruments at the experimental laboratories. I forgot the way his laugh sounded, because of all the lectures given in my classes. I forgot the way his eyes looked at me, because of all the people that began looking at me, seeking help, seeking a friend.

My mind slowly erased him. My heart stopped grieving for him. My happiness became real again. But something inside me couldn't forget about him. I remembered his gestures, his way of treating me, his crazy ideas for the future... I remembered mostly his soul.

So December came and Winter began. I was back home for the holidays and Mother encouraged me to visit the Doctor, his mom, because she had helped me by giving me the job. It was a cold morning; the snow was slowly making its way down and the cold breeze made me shiver. I entered her office and was greeted by a young new secretary. I wondered if he had ever met her.

 "I'll let you in as soon as her patient leaves." I took a sit in the waiting room and looked at the picture I had memorized about six months ago. He was still there, looking bored and handsome. Very handsome. I smiled sadly, remembering vehemently everything. "Excuse me? She's waiting for you now."

I'm not going into the details of our conversation because, truthfully, they were irrelevant. I asked her about her son, though.

"Ah, Gale! He's doing great at college, he actually graduates this year." Gale. I hadn't thought about his name in a long time; she spoke with pride about him and that made me happy. "Well, he actually..."

"Mom?" His voice. My heart began pounding hard, ready to leave my chest. I felt myself go a little sick and I breathed rapidly to try calm myself. I didn't want him to see me like this. "Emma? Emma!"

 I suddenly found myself being crushed by his strong arms; every memory came crashing back to me. It had been just a month of a real relationship but with Gale that had been enough for feeling. I hugged him back while smiling in a bright way. 

I loved him. I still do. That was a problem. There was something about that hug that told me many things: the way I felt protected while wrapped around him told me that he still cared about me; the vibrations in his chest produced by his laughter proved that he was happy to see me. But then again, there was something odd.

 We left the office together, his mother gave him money to take me to eat. I remembered that was the reason it all had started, and this time I had the feeling that it was all going to end for sure. We hadn't talked about the possibility he suggested when it happened. Maybe he had forgotten.

"It's been a long time, Emma. How's everything going?" He was smiling genuinely but his mind was elsewhere. I suddenly wished he was thinking about the month we spent together but immediately stopped myself.

Sometimes girls brake their own hearts because of their hopes. I was hoping too much, I was expecting from him things I hadn't done. I understood that and it was killing me. I loved him and he was seating just in front of me. He was just so close but I had never felt so apart from somebody.

"Too much work and not enough party. What about you?" I asked him. My voice was a little shaky; I was nervous.

"Just one more semester and I'm off to do my Ph.D. And everything's going great, really." He reached across the table and I thought he was going to grab my hand but he grabbed the salt instead. The aching feeling in my chest multiplied.

He was going to do so but I remembered; I had lost him, I needed to know something. I hadn't thought much about him in the past months but now, having him in front of me I understood the mistake. I wanted my freedom but I wanted him, too. Maybe, it had been fast but it could have been so strong.

'Are you in love?' I definitely wanted to ask him, I wanted to know if my heart could get the chance to hope.

 "Any girls I need to know about?" My tone was playful but if he looked at my eyes he would see the fear. I didn't want to let go of him. And then I saw it: the smile. His smile was bright and full of secrets. He wanted to tell somebody but maybe I wasn't the right person to do so.

 He liked somebody.

 "Why are you asking?" As he looked at me my heart stopped. The sparkle on his eyes confirmed my suspicions. There was someone, there was someone making him happy, keeping him up at night. Somebody else had found a way to make his eyes shine, to make his face brighten up with the mere mention of the possibility of her existence. It was all too much. 

I had lost him.

"Your mind was elsewhere, your smile told me a secret. The shine in your eyes confirmed it." I told him. His smile faded a bit and I got nervous; it was if he suddenly remembered that we were going to try again. 

Try. The word echoed in my mind and I understood another thing. It had been only a possibility not a promise. His eyes traveled to my wrist and I knew what he was looking at: his bracelet.

"I had forgotten how good you are at reading people, Emma." His hand settled under his chin and he got serious. Remorse, he didn't want to speak about her, he was feeling bad. But I didn't want that. Above everything, he deserved to be happy so I smiled.

"Oh come on! Tell me already! I want to know who's the girl." A grin appeared in my face. 

 Fake. How could I be happy about that? He studied me for a moment before smiling again. He bought it.

 "Her name is Manohara. Strange, I know!" He told me while laughing.

 Manohara: stealer of the heart. She had the perfect name, she was stealing Gale's heart, my Gale's heart.

And then I had to remember: I was the one that decided to let him go.