The Sound of Glass Hearts {Kellin Quinn} (Watty Awards 2013)

9 - With Ears to See and Eyes to Hear

    Now I remember how I got to this point, why I bothered to come at all and why I was now staring him straight in the face.  There was a meaning to it, there was purpose but it wasn’t to win him back.  This was to say goodbye and to forgive myself so I knew that I could see him happy.  I wanted to move on, I had to move on.  He wanted to move on and he had done so oh so quickly.  I didn’t even know how long he had dated this girl but obviously it had been enough to instantly forget about me.  Why wouldn’t he want to cover me up in a pile of memories though?  I couldn’t blame him.

    As much as that last thought stung, I couldn’t help reminding myself in a quiet voice that I chose this.

    “What the fuck happened to you?” he whispered before I could answer his first question.  The concern that lathered his gaze made my heart do infinitesimal backflips, and caused my cheeks to flush.  I looked away and chewed on my lip, still not finding my voice even though I knew I should say something.

    He touched my cheek and I shirked away.

    “Please don’t touch me,” I whispered guiltily, knowing that if I felt his hands I could near throw myself at him.  It was all I had to keep from doing so, to keep from trying to make him mine again.  I had lost the privilege to try.

    The worry in his eyes turned to anger in a flash.  I knew I shouldn’t have said something because my voice betrayed the fragility of my being.  I still hadn’t learned to love myself so what the fuck was I doing here?  I knew he was thinking the same, pondering what I could possibly be doing here at his wedding.  It was like I was the unwanted stray who kept showing up even though the family had already decided to adopt a dog or maybe I was more like the ghost of Christmas past.  I showed up and knocked on doors that I had no business touching.  Shit I couldn’t even look him in the eye any longer…it was too much torment for me to handle.

    “Then what the fuck are you doing here?” he spat in anger.  I swallowed.

    “I honestly don’t know,” I whispered meekly in as much of a lie as I could muster.  It was all I could do to sink into the wall and disappear.  Why had I come here?  Oh yeah, the therapist prescribed it.

    “Then go, it’s what you were doing anyway,” he grumbled as he turned away from me. 

    “I didn’t come to win you back,” I uttered, though the words were not meant to pierce my lips.  I wanted to scream it at him, tell him that I wasn’t here to ruin his happiness and that his joy was all I wanted.  He was so deserving of it, so loving and so wonderful that he deserved every inch of felicity he could grab onto.

    He turned back to me.

    “Wouldn’t matter even if you did,” he growled.  I had never seen him so resentful and felt my eyes go wide as he matched my gaze.

    “I know,” I murmured, “I just wanted to see you happy.”

    The statement had an unexpected response, something I hadn’t foreseen when I envisioned coming here and watching him like some sort of stalker ex-girlfriend who couldn’t get over him.  That was what this felt like, but I couldn’t figure out why the hell he had invited me if he hadn’t wanted to see me.  What had that invitation been doing in my mailbox?  If he had left well enough alone, I might be better.  I might not have needed therapy but then again…I was probably kidding myself.

    “Well you have seen me, so go,” he stated bluntly.

    Sudden fury rose in me, pooling around the surface of my cheeks in a brilliant red flame as I glared at the boy I so loved.  I wanted to hit him, curse him, scream at him for inviting me but I could only think one question to ask.