Decisions

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark.

Her breath plumed around her in quick puffs she ran under the sprinkling of delicate flurries. The tears that had fallen earlier, the ones that had sent her out the door, had dried on her cheeks. She could feel the little crystals of salt frozen there like stains that could be burned away with the heat of her run. Maybe she could burn away the thoughts racing along beside her, too.  

There was a decision behind her. One that lounged in her apartment—their apartment. One that she refused to face. And so, like a coward, she ran from it. 

That’s why she was out in this horrible, frigid weather in the first place. To escape from that gut retching feeling of having to choose. And he didn’t even know. She couldn’t even bring herself to tell him. To speak the words aloud. To voice her doubts.

People always said that compassion was a strength, but like a flickering flame in the biting wind, it was useless when it came to this. Of course, she felt compassion for him, she’d loved him for five years now. Loved him enough to agree to marry him. Loved him enough to put aside that he wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined. 

She’d had to reminded herself a lot recently that real life wasn’t some fantasy novel, where the beautiful knight in shining armor appeared out of the mists and understood your whole being without a question or explanation. Knew your every need, your every desire. It wasn’t a fairy tale. This was the real world, where people made sacrifices, and compromise was the name of the game. Being willing to bend. Yes, she thought. That’s right.

Right?

She sped up, feeling that prick of feeling in her nose, behind her eyes. Feeling how the sobs were about to surface again. She pushed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and bit her cheek to keep them from overflowing and once again debilitating her. She kept running.

Years of love and trust and growth. That was what was on the line. Because she had to now contemplate giving it all up. It felt so trivial in comparison. Her feelings. How small they felt compared to five years of building a relationship. Yet, they rang out to her now. As if they came to her through thick water, she couldn’t pinpoint their origin. Could not find the source. But nonetheless, she heard those thoughts drifting through her mind. 

I can do it. No, you can’t. I love him. But I haven’t thought I was in love with him for quite a while. Lies. There are moments. You can fix that. Maybe it will come. Passion doesn’t last a lifetime, but friendship does. I can live without desire. I can’t. 

She shook her head as if she could shake all the thoughts out of it. As if she could force herself to go blank and forget. Make herself forget that feeling and those traitorous thoughts.

He was her fiancé. They were happy. But then...the engagement was almost a year ago and there was no end in sight. No action, no motivation to plan, or party. That had to be a sign, right? No. It wasn’t anything. Just a general lack of planning abilities on her part. 

But she hadn’t been motivated in their relationship for a long time now, had she? No she hadn’t. But that didn’t mean she should leave him. 

He did make her feel good. When they met, he made her feel wanted and cared for and loved almost immediately. She made him smile and he did the same. They connected. It felt natural and easy and…right. For the first time, she felt like she was valued. Truly valued. No one had made her feel that way before. There had been other men. Other relationships, though none that had been defined. There had not been many, but she didn’t care about that. What mattered was that unlike those other men, who didn’t know what they wanted or refused her what she so obviously did, the man waiting blindly in her apartment saw value in her that she had always desperately hoped someone would. All those things that she loved about herself, but did not have the courage to share with almost anyone, he seemed to see them. He seemed to see them. 

And she loved him for it. 

She told him so, too. She’d been the first to say it. He hadn’t been the first that she thought she loved, but he had been the first that she had spoken those words to. She had meant them, too. Even today. Even with all the terrible broken things tumbling through her, she meant them with all her heart. She did love him. 

But was that enough?

The problem was, she had come to a point where she realized that loving and being in love were different. So different it seemed. When she asked herself why she said yes to marrying him, the first and strongest thought that burst into her head was always the same. 

He is my best friend. 

She had thought it so many times. She trusted him more than anyone in the world. She laughed with him and smiled with him and they played their little games. There was such joy at times. He brought her so much joy. 

And she could cry to him. Oh, how important that was to her. That he would hold her and tell her that he was with her and make her feel less alone in the world. She thought she had known what that was like, with the men that didn’t matter past their ability to make her feel desired. But what they had given her didn’t seem to compare, not in a way that she thought should matter. They had made her feel wanted. They had never made her feel loved or cared for. Not like him. 

That was what had sealed it in her mind in the first place that she loved him. That was the bat that she had chased away all her doubts about him with. 

It shouldn’t matter that he didn’t always tell her what was on his mind, because he asked her what was on hers.

It shouldn’t matter that he had the same insecurities as she did, because he made her feel less alone. 

It shouldn’t matter that, even though it’s the one thing she specifically asked him to do, he didn’t always say goodnight to her when he was working away from home, because he apologized the next morning.

It shouldn’t matter that she ended up sharing that hotel room with him not because of some fiery passion for him, but rather because she was lonely and knew that he could help rid herself of that feeling. 

It shouldn’t matter that she didn’t even get that feeling from him most of the time anymore anyway. 

Because he was good to her. He took care of her. 

He was in love with her. Regardless of how often he showed it. 

But she wasn’t. 

And how was that fair?   

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried. She thought about saying those words all the time. Telling him, I’m in love with you, but they always died in her mouth as a lie. So, it was always I love you. Which was the truth. It always had been. 

She slowed to a jog as the tears she’d been holding back began slipping down her face. She wanted to stop. She wanted to hold her knees to her chest and let the sobs echo through her. It would be easier almost, to just feel the pain. Feel it, let it wash over her, and then put it away again. Like she did every time before. 

Because maybe as they grew old together…Maybe as they grew a family together and a life together…Maybe then it wouldn’t matter. Maybe then, she would feel like she had everything and know she had made the right choice to stick it out. 

Maybe when she got back she would tell him everything. 

Break his heart to pieces. 

Break his soul. 

Break him. 

No.

The word hissed in her head with a venom that promised to break her too if she did that to him. She protected those she loved. She defended them. She did not cause them pain. 

But there inlaid the problem. That fire, that spirit, that passion died there. She was protecting him from herself, but in doing so, she was making herself miserable. 

She had stopped going to him when she cried because she cried about him.

She had stopped sharing her true thoughts when he asked because she didn’t want to see the hurt in his eyes.

She had stopped asking for that nightly phone call or text because she didn’t want him to feel like he was letting her down. 

She had stopped coming to him to fulfill her desire because she didn’t want him to notice that it always ended in her just waiting for it to be over, that her smiles afterwards were for him and not for her. 

She gasped as those thoughts beat a brand into her brain, bringing her to an abrupt halt. 

How unfair of her. How horrible of a person to drag someone into a life like that. 

Cruel. Coward. 

Her breath slowed. Her head fell into her hands. 

There was no chance of preserving what she had if she gave back that ring. No chance that this one person who she’d given almost all of herself to, who made her feel safe, would still be in her life. She would lose everything. Not just her fiancé or her apartment. She would lose her best friend. 

But was he already lost??

There was no right answer.

The realization stuck her in a way that made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. No right answer. 

Well if that was the case…

Numbness seeped into her bones as she stood unmoving, preparing finally, finally just do something. One way or the other. Either way, she would need that numbness. To get through forever or to break his heart. Either way, it would be a necessity. So, she clung to it. 

The cold air ravaged her lungs as she sucked in several hard, deep breaths. The snow fell all around her, dampening the chaos and noise in her head, and she threw her head back, letting the darkness that had taken over the sky above wash over her, sooth her, before she turned back down the path. Back to the decision that now lay before her.