I don’t know. We fit. I loved him. I thought he loved me back. He gave a very good impression of it anyway. He was exceptionally kind. A bit too kind really. I had to say no for him sometimes … and doesn’t that just make me sound like a controlling bitch? But he was sweet, he was funny … he was the quiet to my loud, he was the beautiful to my bawdy … I really thought we were meant to be.
Little did I know, these were some other woman’s thoughts too, except, unlike me, she was right. I was wrong. So wrong.
And now they’re having a baby together … did I mention that?
Some things are just NOT meant to be. And some things are. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much – finding out which is which.
Katherine
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: 2 August 2009 15:46PM
Subject: I see …
Dear Katherine,
First off, I’m a paediatrician; so the only trauma I have to deal with is the screaming mothers and the fainting fathers. Sometimes the other way around. But you’re right; the advice I give my patients is more focused on getting them to breathe and let me handle the rest.
I wish I could offer you the same. If only I could order you to concentrate on your breathing and leave the rest up to me. Because then I could hunt down your James, hold a knife to his balls and make him answer all the questions you have and make sure he knows he’s scum because nobody should bring a baby into the world like that … in that environment. Does he not realise that every time he looks at his kid he’s going to remember the other woman … you? He’s going to recall how he broke you, how he betrayed your love, your trust, how he was such a liar. Does he not realise that this new woman, the mother to his child, is going to be thinking the same things?
Because you see, I’ve been him. I’ve cheated. I’ve been scum, but I didn’t dwell on it because I knew I was getting away with it. And then I was found out. And then when the exact same thing happened to me, I was the victim, and hypocritically enough, I felt betrayed.
It’s so stupid, cheating. Why can’t people just be honest with each other? Why don’t they realise that it destroys, actually destroys, lives … homes … hearts. It’s a wonder anyone can ever love again when they’ve had their hearts ripped out like that.
I’ve loved … to distraction. And then my eye wandered, and instead of telling her ‘I may be interested in someone else and I think I want to find out if it could be more … I think it might be more …’ I did it behind her back instead and broke her heart. So I traded in true love for a new love, to which she turned around and did the exact same thing to me.
Once a cheater, always a cheater. And I deserved it. Karma is a bitch and there is no going back.
So if you think he isn’t going to hurt like you hurt, think again. Cheaters always get their just desserts. Trust me.
John
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: 13 August 2009 17:37PM
Subject: Re: I see …
Right. Just desserts. I see. Well, your god must be better than mine because his just desserts are pretty fucking sweet if you ask me. What, a beautiful wife, a beautiful baby, a beautiful house, a family!!!
That was my dream too. That was my offer to him. But he didn’t want it from me and now I have nothing with nobody!
Just a faceless email address who also cheated on his girlfriend!
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: 13 August 2009 22:48PM
Subject: As I was saying …
Sorry about that. It was another bad day for me. I’ve just found out my dog is having puppies. From another vet, thankfully. Could you imagine the scene that could’ve been??
Actually, I guess that IS something I can be grateful for: new places. I was able to move, leave, disappear … and there is always a new vet. It’s a female this time, which is something else I can be grateful for I suppose. That’s the last thing I need right now – falling for another veterinarian.
Puppies. Yep, real convenient for me, considering my landlord doesn’t even know I have THIS dog, much less eight or nine more, and I have no time to look after them. I don’t even know what breed they’ll be as my bitch (very fitting title!!) is a Jack Russell and the only other dog I’ve seen around here is a Lab … I can’t even imagine how they would pull that off … I just didn’t need this right now.
And it’s not so much the puppies that piss me off; it’s not my dog at all, it’s the fact that there’s another change attacking my life and I’m not ready for it. I’m not prepared for it. And I hate that I can’t accept this new thing.
You know, I used to be able to do anything. I used to take on the world, head on. Bring it on. Do your worst. I dare you …
Now … I’m hesitant about everything. I don’t want to get hurt again. The last big chance I took stole my heart and now I’m not ready to give anything more.
Why am I so scared of everything? It’s not me. Where have I gone? When am I coming back?
I think that’s what I hate most of all: that in giving my heart away I gave everything else of me away too. And now I’m this new person trying to find herself and not liking the results.
I miss her, the other me. She would know what to do with nine puppies. Present-day me? I’m freaking out!
And I didn’t mean to belittle your relationship experiences. You’re helping me. Truly. Because I do sometimes like to think that he regrets it. I do like to think that he misses me. That I wasn’t as easy to let go as he made it seem. And despite my bouts of psycho-anger-bitch, I hope he doesn’t regret the kid. I would never want to be the one to wreck a family like that. An innocent kid should not suffer the consequences of its parents’ mistakes. I truly hope I am just an afterthought when it comes into the world. It’s hard enough being a neglected kid when your parents DON’T have the excuse of a past love.
Which is another thing I miss about him … he understood me. He understood me and my family and our dynamic. He got me. He got us. And whenever I would come home after being emotionally beaten to a pulp by my mother, after a full day of her asking why I don’t have a proper job, saying that yes, being a chef is a job, but it’s not your restaurant is it? Asking about why I don’t wear better clothes, because if you don’t clean yourself up soon, James is gonna leave you …
Well, she called that one, didn’t she? But at least after that, James knew how to soothe me. And it was easy. A simple, ‘I love you. Don’t ever change.’ That was enough. That did it.
I’m either incredibly easy or incredibly stupid or both.
I believed him. And now he’s with someone else.
Tell me to shut up. Seriously. I make myself sick; I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.
Katherine
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: 16 August 2009 16:21PM
Subject: Not sick at all!
I think it’s good for you to get this all out. If not to me then to someone else. Because it can’t live inside you. It’s poisonous – all this regret, all this self-hate, all this doubt – it’s toxic and it will kill you if you don’t release it.
I can confidently say the weakness wasn’t in you – it was in him. All him! If he can give you up, if he can reject you like that – all you had to offer him – then he’s the sick one. He’s greedy and selfish and if he doesn’t regret you then he never deserved you in the first place.
What I haven’t told you is, this girl, this girl I cheated on … she was my other half. She was … is the love of my life. I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone the way I loved her. And I threw it all away because I let my dick do the thinking.
It was nothing more than that. It wasn’t that she wasn’t good enough for me – because she was. Better than me in every way. It wasn’t that she wasn’t pretty enough or sophisticated enough or patient enough … it wa
s because I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t good enough for her. She deserved so much better than me, and thinking back, with all this time to see clearly, it was all me. I was just that stupid. I was just that blind. I’m a typical man after all.
I wish I could take it back. Take back that day when I looked at another … thought about another … did so much more …
If I had one wish it would be that. Not world peace, not an endless bank account, not three more wishes … but that I never strayed. That I never did that to her. That I never caused her pain.
What are your thoughts on forgiveness?
Because I would give anything … everything in the world for this girl to forgive me. If I knew precisely what to do, I would do it, in a heartbeat … if only to have her look at me again. If only to be near her again.
What could I possibly do to have her forgive me??
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: 22 August 2009 23:11PM
Subject: Forgiveness?
I remember the moment I knew I would never love anyone like I loved him. It was just one of those things … one of those times after we’d made love, after we were lying together, sweaty, panting, breathing each other’s air and he bent his head to my chest and kissed the spot where my heart should be and looked into my eyes and whispered, ‘mine.’ It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a request. It was fact. Statement. Universal truth.
And I knew. Yes. It is yours. My heart is yours. Of course it is. As if you ever needed to ask. As if you ever needed to voice it out loud. As if we didn’t know already. My heart belonged to him … end of story.
You ask about forgiveness.
There was the time when I was lying in bed, sick as a dog, ugly as hell and he walks into my room with soup and a new box of tissues as if I’m not the most disgusting, contagious thing in the world, and instead of yelling at him to get out like I want to, I sneeze and snot is flying everywhere and he wipes my nose and holds a tissue to it while I blow and I’m thinking, ‘Jesus, if he can love me after this, then I’ll know it’s for real,’ and then he kisses me, actually kisses me, with mucus and all sorts of other unmentionables on my face, and then he feeds me soup. We’d barely been going out six months and he’s got my snot on his lips and I’m thinking, That’s love. Right there. Forever.
Forgiveness.
Maybe. For those good memories alone, maybe I could forgive one day. But the pain … the betrayal … the absolute numbness … the loss … the emptiness … it may have taken him minutes to break up with me, but the hurt is … this hurt seems endless. The good may outweigh the bad, but I’m not much of an optimist. I can’t even sneeze without thinking of him. I can’t eat soup. I can’t even take off my clothes without him in my fucking head. How fair is that?
Forgiveness. I’m sorry, but I just can’t see that far into the future yet.
And if he ever asked to come back … I like to think I’d be strong enough to say no, to say have a good life, all the best for the future, I wish you well … but I’m just not there yet. Because I literally ache to have him in my arms. I’m still at the stage where I’ll probably do anything for him because a piece of me is missing.
Forgive? Not yet. Forget? Never. But try?
It’s something I’m not going to torture myself over because he’s not coming back. He’s having a baby … had … I don’t even know anymore … I don’t want to know. I’d die if I knew … but he’s not mine. I know that much. So why spend hope thinking about it?
But for you … I hope your girl does forgive you in time. Even though I know my own heart, that doesn’t mean I know anyone else’s.
And maybe she will be grateful. Maybe she will thank whatever god she believes in that you want her back. That you’re so desperate for her. That you think about her at all. Maybe you’d be doing her a favour. Maybe you’d be putting her out of her misery.
Then again, maybe she’ll make you suffer.
I’m glad I’m not faced with that decision yet, cause I don’t know what I’d choose.
Katherine
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: 29 August 2009 10:00AM
Subject: Helloooo?
Don’t tell me … you’re away. You’ve begged her forgiveness and she forgave you and now you’re both away on honeymoon. Thank god for happy endings, huh?
If that’s the case, please let me know and I’ll stop holding my breath for a reply.
… actually, I do hope that’s the case. If only to know another human being is happy in this world. Meanwhile … I’ll just keep writing into cyberspace.
Katherine
P.S. I don’t suppose you two want a puppy? Or nine??
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: 20 September 2009 12:26PM
Subject: Forgiveness
Dearest Katherine,
So there’s a few things I may have omitted … and a few things I point-blank lied about. You’ll probably hate me for all of them … but here it goes:
Firstly, I am working on her forgiveness. Desperately.
You see, all this time, I didn’t know where she was. I was too scared to find out, because I’d have to ask her family and although they liked me at the time, they think I’m absolute pond scum now. Because her family loves her, very much. And the fact that I hurt her, the fact that I made her shed one tear – they believe I should be garrotted.
She thinks they think her a waste of their time, but they don’t. Quite the opposite in fact. They’re proud of her. They think she is amazing and I’m right there with them. And they are VERY protective of her. You have no idea how hard it was to get an address: hell, to get a kind word. But I think I must have proved how much of myself I’m willing to give in order to get her forgiveness and they relented. So I have her address. Now for the hard part.
Secondly … and please don’t stop reading after this … but secondly, what I didn’t tell you was that when I cheated on her, my love, my heart, the girl I cheated with became pregnant. And stupidly, I believed it was mine. I should’ve known better because I knew she was a liar but it was a lie I found out too late. Too, too late.
She lied to keep me. She continued lying to keep me, so much so I fell for this little unborn child, hard. When I finally found the truth I actually considered staying. I didn’t love her, but I loved this child … this child that wasn’t mine … this innocent child that ruined my life … I would’ve been happy in a loveless marriage because of this unknown kid …
Now she has reconciled with the actual father and I am free. I am free to pursue the one I love. I’m going to lie at her feet and promise anything, ANYTHING, if only she’ll give me a chance. If only she’ll let me speak to her. If only to see her face again. I am going to give her all of me and promise, swear, cross my heart and hope to die, that I will never do anything to hurt her again.
And thirdly … lastly … my last betrayal, my last lie:
Your email went to the right address that night. I’m not a paediatrician and my name isn’t John.
You see, I remember a time too. I remember sitting at home, lonely, broken, wondering how I could possibly go on with life when I only have half of myself – when I loved and lost the woman of my dreams. When I loved and lost a baby. How could I possibly live with such a yearning, with this ache that only alcohol was able to appease … and then I opened an email and I found light again. It was like I had been granted a second chance. It was how I found hope.
So now I hope. I hope I can see her. I hope she will accept me. I hope she will forgive me, for everything I’ve done. And one day, I hope I will be worthy of her.
Because I love her, with all of my being, with all that I am, and in exactly a week’s time, when I knock on her door, I hope she will open it … if only to throw something at my head.
I love you, Katherine. I always have, I always will. Please forgive me.
Yours … always and forever yours,
James
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: 27 September 2009 23:22PM
Subject: Re: Forgiveness
Dear James,
Get ready to duck, you bastard.
Love,
Katherine
Of Apples and Oranges
Anita Tipene
It’s you.
It’s you, back.
I can’t believe it.
… I can.
He remembers a girl. A specific girl. Not one of his many faceless one-night stands that mean everything at the time and nothing in the whole scheme of things.
No, this girl is different. This girl is a memory that echoes every time he hears a sweet melody or whenever he smells fresh apples. This girl is a shrouded shape dancing in his dreams and haunting the very corner of his eye.
The memory of this girl fades in and out, like music with a volume dial – sometimes gently, a whisper of a sound, sometimes loud, blaring in his face – and each time he has no control over it.
It is only the moments when he is alone, with a bottle in one hand and a smoke in the other, that this girl comes to mind accompanied by a rush of unfiltered regrets and broken promises, twisting into a dance with the smoky trail from his cigarette. She waits for his eyes to flutter shut after a bottle too many, swimming up through the darkness to drown him in a nostalgia he never knew he had.
She is Riley – poor, sweet, little Riley with the sad smile and the hope in her eyes, with the cold fingertips and the even colder family. She is the first person to have ever loved him; he knows this as well as he knows his own name, and it is with a smile he remembers her, a longing wistful smile that makes him shake his head and sigh. He never met anyone like her, before or since. She was someone who had crawled into his heart without him knowing particularly how or when she got there, much like a cavity overloaded by sweetness.
Huia Short Stories 9 Page 24
