‘We went to the seaside.’

pexels-photo-201127
“We went to the seaside. Just for the hell of it, because she wanted to show me her favorite spot. We drove for two days, stayed for a week, and at the end of that week, I suddenly realized that I had almost forgotten that my best friend was about to graduate. So we hit the road for two more days to go to Boston. We were young and carefree, buying appropriate clothing for the ceremony only two hours before the start, and arriving almost late, without any shame, because we were happy. I was happy. Even though I was aware of it, I had – and still have, actually – problems admitting it. I just dove into our relationship fully and blindly, claiming that I was faking it every time I spoke on the phone with Chris, but realizing I was getting used to her, to her lips, to her smell, to her body, her whole body. I was getting used to falling asleep with her head on my chest, and to waking up by her side. But then one day – the fourth? The fifth? I don’t even know any more, I told her: “I love you”. Once. Twice. So many times that I couldn’t even count. It was perfect. She was as in love with me as I pretended to be with her, and that was perfect. Making her believe I loved her, repeating it so that she wouldn’t forget, that was perfect, ingenious even, for my plan. At least, it would have been if I hadn’t realized at that moment that those words, those words that I usually can’t get myself to say before months, those words that were nothing but a lie to be able to destroy her later, sounded true to me. I managed to convince myself that it didn’t change anything, that it was but an impression, that I still had a week to spend with her, and that it couldn’t hurt to enjoy her, because, let’s be honest – she is so beautiful. She is when she cries, when she laughs, when she stares into space. She is before falling asleep. When she wakes up, before showering or putting make up on. Clothed. Naked, covered only by a bed sheet. She is beautiful. Everywhere. All the time.”
– Le Chemin vers le Bonheur, p.130
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s