The Frozen Tear
Drawing the blanket more closely around me, I felt chilled as I lifted my gaze to the moon. Touched at the edges with crimson, it seemed to suit the night perfectly: traces of red anger visible but veiled. It held a power almost palpable to my senses, yet it was comforting. The wind, so loud I expected lightning, seemed to carry a whisper or laughter, I couldn�t tell which. It almost lifted me off my feet. "Kevin must be enjoying this," I said, and then remembered that a laugh was not likely to be heard from him. A sigh of sadness escaped my mouth, and the night lost its magic. I retreated back up the steps and sank into a chair by the fireplace.
It was warm inside. I started intently into the flames, watching them flicker and dance, entranced by their beauty. The storm became louder and more dangerous, and it sounded clearer, closer. Then silence. "The eye of the storm," I said, willing my eyes away from the red glare and toward the window. The moon was unchanged, but a shadow nearer at hand made me gasp. The door opened and my hand was inches from the figure�s face when I withdrew.
"Kevin," I said. "I was just thinking about you."
"Were you?" he said. �Do you always think of me when an unheralded stranger walks up your front porch late at night?" I laughed, but he didn�t. "It�s nice out," he added. A branch from the tree in my front yard fell into the middle of the street. Moving back and inviting him in, I motioned for him to sit. "Would you like anything?" I asked. "Hot chocolate?"
He shook his head. "No, I need to talk. You were the first person I thought of." I smiled. Even in his pain he found a way to make a friend feel appreciated. "Can I be honest with you?" he asked.
"Did you really expect anything else? I would think that after all we�ve been through, you can expect that of me. Is it about Shannon?" The mention of her name seemed to release something inside of him.
The usually calm face went pale, almost white, and he spoke erratically. "What�s wrong with me?" he started. "I don�t understand." I would have asked what it was that he didn�t understand, but he motioned for me to let him continue. "People have been telling me for a long time how great a person I am. You told me yourself that any girl would be lucky to be loved by me. You remember that, don�t you?" He gave me a piercing look.
"Of course I remember," I said. How could I forget? "And it�s still the truth."
"Then why is it," he said with a rising voice, "that when I was finally in a position to love someone, she decided she could never do the same for me? I wasn�t good enough for her. That�s the only explanation I can come up with."
"That�s not true," she said. "You�re good enough for any girl that I�ve ever met."
"So she said. She would never admit that I couldn�t give her enough. But no matter what she says, I couldn�t give her what she needed. Why else would she have left?"
I didn�t know what to say. His logic was impeccable, as it always was, and it certainly wasn�t helping things. "Why couldn�t you provide for her then? What did she need that you couldn�t give?" I didn�t see how any of this could be his fault, even if it were true.
"I�m not sure if she needed anything," he said with a sigh of defeat. "That�s the problem. I don�t think she needed a thing. She didn�t need me." I took a sip of hot chocolate, but remained silent. I knew he was right, but there were no words of comfort I could give him. I wished that he could be free from her, but he cared too much.
He must have been thinking the same thing, for he began anew. "This is so incredibly ridiculous. I feel for her so strongly, Rachael. I know it�s unhealthy for our friendship. I hate that I can�t get rid of the feelings, but the part that makes me sick is that I don�t want to lose them. I know that things between Shannon and I can be healthy again, if I would just lose my feelings for her."
I nodded. There was no denying that.
"But then," he went on, "I�d be admitting to myself that I�ll never hold her again. I don�t want to give up on that." That was understandable: she was a wonderful person, and I was proud to call her my friend. It had made me happy to see them together, because I knew they could respect and care for each other deeply. There were times that even I didn�t want to believe they had broken apart.
"She�s so beautiful to me, Rachael. Giving up on being loved by her is like shutting my eyes just as the night ends and a beautiful sunrise begins. There is no metaphor that I can write to do her justice. I want to cry, but that would be a finality that I couldn�t bear. I�m stuck." I was again speechless. He seemed to adore her. If anyone had described me like that, even with this kind of resignation, I would have felt blessed.
Staring dejectedly at the floor, he didn�t notice me rise. I went to the kitchen for a moment, and returned with two full mugs of hot chocolate. He seemed to have gathered his thoughts, for he said, "Lately, I�ve imagined being at her wedding, and the thought of it tears me in two. The idea of someone else touching her, holding her, kissing her..." He shivered. "It makes me feel as if I�m on the brink of madness. There have been other times in my life when I�ve wanted no one to touch someone I felt deeply for, but then I could imagine myself being happy for them when it really mattered. I can�t even fathom that now." I placed my hand on his shoulder, but it went suddenly chill and he spoke just as coldly. "Please do not do that."
I sat on the table instead, just a few feet from him. Leaning forward, I asked him the question I knew he needed to answer. "Do you love her?"
The answer came surprisingly fast. "I�m not sure. All that I know is that now, weeks later, the thought of her still makes me toss my reason aside. And you know how reasonable I can be." Was this the same guy who wouldn�t accept a compliment, even though he needed it, because he knew the glory wasn�t his own? "Most would say that I did love her. My reason tells me that she just didn�t need a relationship at the time, and no one could have provided for her."
"No one blames you for not being able to, Kevin," I reassured. "She couldn�t be provided for."
"But then why must I give up on her?" he said, half angry, half despairing.
"You don�t have to. Just give it some time." I put my hand on his knee. It went cold too, but he said nothing.
"I don�t know how. When I admit that I have no more chance of being with her than anyone else, I fall into obscurity."
"You aren�t in obscurity, Kevin. She couldn�t love anyone like you wanted her to love you. And still she chose to try. Doesn�t that tell you something about your importance?"
"She doesn�t feel anything for me any more, Rachael, even if she did when she left. I�m sick of being abandoned. She�s gone, and it scars me. This wound proves that I have no more chance of winning her heart than I did the first time."
"But you did. She chose you."
"You�re right, of course," he said. "And you can see where that got me." A tear fell down his cheek and he went back into the night. As he turned to look at me, a flash of lightning threw his face into sudden relief. The path of the single droplet was frozen to his face, reaching almost the full length of it. It recalled the slash of a sword.
"Some scars never really heal," I said.
Back to the top
|