Selfless

by hye kyo

Author's Notes: Just a little drabble...I originally planned it as a fanfiction...but anyway, here it goes...

--

He is the man you dream of. You know him since college and had been friends with him ever since. When you got older, old enough to have your own apartment, you see him again at the grocery. And you fall in love. Again. With him.

He smiles at you and you smile back. You ask if he wouldn’t mind talking about what the two of you had been doing ever since you both graduated over coffee. He hesitates and you think that he is hesitant about you. You begin to retract but he suddenly says yes.

And as your discussion grow you begin to get bolder. You ask for his number. He smile as if to say You are still so in love with me? You try to say no but your eyes say the exact opposite. He gives you his number, asks for yours and then he calls for the check.

You ask to split the check but he refuses. You fall in love even more.

--

As days progress you begin to get lovesick.

“I am in love,” You tell your best buddy.

“Of course,” she is beginning to get tired hearing you say that. Just as you are beginning to get tired hoping that he will call. “Won’t you ever learn?”

“I will call him,” you say to her as she drinks her milk.

She frowns at you, “You always say that.”

“Because I still think he should call first.”

She picks up her bag from the couch and says, “Call me when he calls.”

You accompany her to the door. Sometimes she could really be a pain.

“Well, that means you will never call me,” and she laughs as she speeds to the elevator,

You suddenly feel bad. You know he will never call.

--

And he calls after three weeks of waiting. He says he was sorry for making you wait. He says he was away for some business and never had the time to call. You tell him it is okay even if it is not. It is because you are in love.

He asks you if you could join him for dinner two nights away at a fine restaurant somewhere in Shinjuku. You agree. You begin thinking of what to wear.

You call him by his first name. You purr his name and he smiles. He takes you to the movies a day after. And then he brings you to a park the morning after. You know you are in love. You know you will never feel this way again with someone.

You say his name. He looks at you, asks you what.

You link your arms with his, you know you are in a relationship but as to what it is you do not know. You hesitate.

“What is it?” he asks. He pouts in concern.

You simply smile. He has never kissed you nor touched you after you see him again. He only holds your hand and you think this is because he wants to keep things slow this time and not to rush things like before. It is okay with you.

“Ueno Park is nice,” you tell him. You look at him.

He nods. He stops by the wall. When you stop too and start to ask him why, he suddenly pushes you against the wall and kisses you.

And you are surprised. But that doesn’t prevent you from kissing him. You know that the kisses you have shared with other boys in the past were for this moment. You had been practicing for this. And you know that this moment is special. Besides it is not as if you have never kissed him before.

--

You hail the cab impatiently as he tries to keep his hands off you. You both try not to make out in the cab. He takes you home where you undress as you climb the flight of stairs to the bedroom. You don’t notice the photographs lined on his tables because you were busy unbuttoning his shirt.

You make love on the floor and then on the bed and then against the wall. You thought of all the times you made love in the past and realized you had already forgotten about them. This is the only thing you’ll remember from now on.

You try to keep silent as he makes love to you. But you can’t. You scream and shout and moan and groan. He loves it, he tells you and he makes love to you more.

You know you would scream and shout and moan and groan again if he tells you.

--

As you lay on his chest you notice the gold ring on his desk. You decide to ignore it because you are tired and because you are sleepy. You tell yourself you will ask in the morning.

--

“I don’t know,” you tell him. You sit on the couch and watch a movie. He sits beside you, frowning.

“You always say that even if you do,” he argues. He stands up. You don’t even remember what you are arguing about. You stand up too, kiss him on his mouth.

You say, “I’m sorry.”

He looks away and then, “I’m sorry.”

You love it when he apologizes. You say, “I love you.” You wait until he says something but there was nothing. At least he apologized. And you make love to him on the couch.

--

“I was married,” he tells you.

You look at him. Then you remember the ring. And everything makes sense.

“For five years,” he holds your hand.

You try to pull it away but he keeps on holding it.

“I didn’t want to start a relationship as soon as I get divorced but you were there…” he looks at you tentatively, places a tentative kiss on your cheek and then pulls you into a hug.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” you ask. You feel hurt but you tell yourself that at least he was already divorced. And that at least he told you.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to.” He touches you. He kisses your mouth. He whispers into your ear. You remember the first time you made love in his house.

“Okay,” you simply say. You know you can’t argue. And you let him undress you and carry you to bed.

--

You move in with him. You share his house, his plate, his couch, his bed. It was only then that you realize you still share him with someone else. You know he never really wanted to get divorced. You know he was forced. You know he still loves somebody else.

You tell him you love him after making love. And he responds with a nod or with a “Hmm.” And you will smile. And you don’t even know why you smile.

--

You begin to make love less often. You notice this as soon as you notice him coming home so late. One night he tells you, “I slept with my ex-wife.”

You simply look at him. You now knew his ex-wife has a name. B is her name. B from college.

“I am sorry.” He tries to glance at you but he couldn’t.

“I was trying to learn how to cook,” you tell him, “So I could cook something for our first anniversary.”

He looks down.

“How does it feel?” you ask. You are simply curious.

He doesn’t answer.

You smile. You stand up. You walk over to the kitchen. You turn the stove off, held the pot with a potholder and drain the contents in the sink. You go back to him and say, “I love you.”

He doesn’t speak. You wait. When he realizes you’re waiting he says, “I am sorry.”

You feel pain. And you think you’re going to die. You remember when you approached him in college. You asked for his number. He hesitated. But he gave you his. You gave yours. You called him right after, scheduled a date and kissed him when he accompanied you home. You never knew he was reconciling with his ex-wife then. Well, she wasn’t his ex-wife yet at that time.

And then you remember on your sophomore year when he approached you while you were standing on one of the bleachers. He asked you if you could have dinner with him and you agreed. He kissed you after the dinner and even though you never brought home a boy before, you brought him to your dormitory and lost your virginity to him. You never knew B had cooled off with him. He was depressed. And then he left. You were happy because you were happy for him.

And then you recall that time in your junior year when you saw him sitting outside while it was raining. You called him and he went over to you. He cried. He said he was so in love but B was making it hard for him. You felt pain but you ignored it. You allowed him to kiss you even though you knew he was only kissing you because he thought he was kissing her.

And on your last year you asked him what you are to him. He frowned, told you he was sorry and left. The following week he came to your dorm room, kissed you in the dark and undressed you. Your roommate was gone for a weekend vacation. He made love to you on your bed and you woke up beside him. When he woke up he said he was sorry and disappeared. You felt bad but at least you made him happy. And that was all that mattered then. His happiness. And you both graduated. And he got married.

You don’t know how all those remain forgotten until today.

You say his name, “Are you going back to her now?”

He looks at you.

“Okay,” and you don’t mean it. You walk upstairs and pack your things.

He calls your name. He is already standing by the bedroom door.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I am used to this. It has always been like this.” And you zip your bag and walk past him. You try to ignore the pain in your eyes as you hold your tears.

And you leave.

--

You see him after two years walking his dog. He walks towards you. You try to avoid him as you jog but he catches up with you. He phoned you many times, all of which you ignored.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” you say too.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he tells you. He holds your arm.

“Really?” you release your arm from his hold.

“I am sorry,” he says.

“You are finally together again?” you ask. You do not wait for his reply, you say, “Congratulations.”

“We never got back together,” he says in a low voice.

You are surprised but you do not allow it to show through your face. Your best friend says you love him too much that’s why he always relies on you to be his shock absorber. You tell yourself it was enough. You never will be. At least not anymore.

“There is something I want to tell you,” he says.

“Yeah? Shoot.”

“I love you too,” he says. And you look at his eyes. And you know that he means it.

But you are tired. You feel bad making love to him without him really making love to you. He kisses you but he never does see you. He kisses you because he thinks you are his ex-wife. Maybe he has learned to love you because you disappeared. But that doesn’t make it clear whether he really loves you or just needs you.

“I love you,” he repeats. He pulls you close.

You are tempted to kiss him. But you know you will never be happy. You are tired. You want to move on. You look at him in the eye and say, “I am sorry.”

He stands there, motionless.

“I only want to be happy,” and you leave. At least now you can try to be happy by being happy for yourself, not because you are happy when he is happy.

--

End

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