There she stood under the gloomy sky just staring up at a dark window
on the fifth floor. It was late, past twelve, and her apartment was in the
opposite direction, but somehow she had ended up here. Her thoughts were
racing. Why had she even come here? Her head responded that she shouldn't
have, but her racing heart had taken control over an hour ago. It led her
here against her better judgment and as a result, she sat remembering.
The mere sight of the window thrust her back in time. It was a
time with protection against the storms like the one growing around her.
There she remembered being safe, but more importantly, she remembered being
happy. Now there was no protection, she was alone and lonely.
Nevertheless, that's the price of freedom, the price of independence. The
price of chasing all your dreams is high, sometimes too high. If only she
had known how terrible it would all turn out, she would have never walked
out of the apartment. She would have stayed to work things out, to try to
make things better. She would have realized all her dreams included him.
How rash she had been in leaving that night.
She let out a retching sob. Her hands covered her eyes as the tears
began to fall. Uncontrollable, they slid down her face, breaking free from
their cage through the cracks of her fingers. As if to mirror her anguish,
the sky let out a boom, and rain cascaded from the sky. In moments, she
was soaking wet, her long hair a ratty tangle lying against her back.
Calmed by the rain, she slowly regained control over her tears. When they
quieted to a silent stream undistinguishable from the falling droplets, she
looked at the window again.
What was she here for? What did she think would happen? Did she
think the lights would flicker on, and the window would open? If it did,
she would probably just rush off, praying she hadn't been recognized. She
couldn't risk being seen. All her declarations of not caring would be
shattered if she was. Maybe that's what she wanted. Maybe she really
wanted to be seen; to have all her lies ripped from her until only the
And what was the truth? The truth was she couldn't stand it any
longer. She could stand being alone anymore. She wanted to be taken back,
to be loved and cherished as she had been. But that's not how life goes,
there is no such thing as a second chance, not for her. He had made that
perfectly clear. There were no words to heal the wounds, to explain what
was going on within her that night. Even if there were, she wouldn't be
able to use them, because she didn't want to be wrong. She hadn't known
why she ran away, but she had; she ran blindly to what was most familiar to
her, loneliness. Now she had too much pride to say so, to admit that she
was wrong in leaving.
Gathering herself, she tore her eyes from the window and silently
through the rain began walking home. She let the rain wash away the
remains of her tears and the memories, so there would be no proof of her
weakness left. When she returned home, she had to be the strong one, the
one who knows the answers to everything and never made a wrong choice. She
had to go back to letting her head control her actions, and leaver her
aching heart hidden beneath the reality she created. She had to go back to
the present, and she had to learn to leave the apartment and its occupant,
where it belongs, in the past.
He let the light click on after she was well out of sight. He had
been thinking of her when he noticed her down below. The bed had seemed so
empty, even after all this time, without her in it. The whole place seemed
empty without her, her smile, her laughter. She was the only thing that
had brought light into the tiny rooms. Her absence was the reason he paced
sleepless in front of the window.
He let the curtains drop from his clenched hand. He had watched the
whole time, hidden just out of view. Silently he had watched her cry, had
saw the pain climb its way from within her. He wanted to go to her, to
hold her close, to tell her everything was ok and that he was here for her.
But he found himself paralyzed with questions. Why had she come? What
did she want? Why was she in tears? There was nothing left between them,
nothing left to say, nothing left to do. They didn't even speak anymore.
In fact, they hadn't spoken since she left that night, so why had she stood
staring up at the apartment they once shared?
Suddenly he felt the old pain flair up in his heart. She had decided
that night not to be a part of his life anymore. He had begged her, and
still she left, leaving him alone and heartbroken. Spitefully he thought
it wasn't his fault if she was having second thoughts. She had left him,
not the other way around. There was nothing he could or would do now. He
would not, under any circumstances, beg her to come back a second time. He
couldn't go to her and tell her he had seen this night. She would just
stare at him and deny it. It was a lose-lose situation.
He stifled a sob in his own throat. There was no use in tears.
There was no use in anything. He had to face it, just as she did, the time
they had together was over. It had been for some time. There was no going
back. They were both different people now. She had grown cold to him,
even with her midnight visit. Her dreams would always keep her just out of
his reach. As for him, well, she had had full possession of his heart, and
broken hearts are hard to mend. He wasn't sure if he could forgive her,
but oh, how he wanted to.
He wished he could have run down the five flights of stairs into the
pouring rain and pulled her to himself. He wished he could have held her
close and kissed her tears away. He wanted to tell her not to leave him
alone like he had the night she haltingly left him. It had rained then as
well. But he hadn't the guts to chase her then and still didn't have them
now. Why he didn't chase her tonight? There was no answer. He just
watched her drift out of his life for a second time. There was no
guarantee another midnight would bring her to his window again. His window,
the word seemed all wrong; it should still be their window in his mind.
Turning from the glass, he climbed into the cold bed. Tomorrow was
another day, and he had to go on living. He had to be strong, to act as if
she didn't matter. No one could know how he longed for her deep in the
night; how his heart broke every time he glanced at her passing figure.
No, the time for their love was over.
The world ripped the two lover apart for a second and final time.
There would be no more chances after this, no more midnight visits. She
would forget him in her search for happiness, finding others to fill the
void, only to find they fell terribly, terribly short. He would never learn
to forgive. Every time he would think of going to her, he would remember
the pain she had caused, and full of the memory, would let words go unsaid.
It didn't matter to their stubborn sides that they were meant to be
together, that they were a perfect match. No, they would go through life
pretending there was something better out there, something stronger than
what they had. Perhaps they may find someone else, but it will never be
the same. They will still wonder, still cry. They will still bury the
pain of a true love lost deep inside their hearts. Because they may have
been able to convince their minds, but their hearts? Never.