The Passion of Him

I kept running. I didn’t want to deal with it. It doesn’t matter to me he left me, he left me when I needed him most. I wanted to resent him, but I couldn’t. Why? Why couldn’t I hate him? I felt used, cheap even.

           He looked up and when he saw me, he started running towards me; I couldn’t stop running away from what I felt for him.

           Deep down I wanted him to run towards me to stop me. But the other part just wanted to run and keep running.

           “Emma?!” He shouted to me.

           I turned around, my anger getting the better of me, “Yes!” 

           I saw him from the corner of my eye breathing hard, the result of him keeping up with me. I saw he never gave up even though it became difficult for him.

           I didn’t know how to tell him what had happened to me. I mean is he that oblivious? Try to stay calm, hear him out, I thought. Even though it’s so hard for me.

I closed my eyes when he said my name again, I could remember everything we did together. The heartbreak, the sadness, the feeling of being abandoned when I needed him most. 

           For six months, I could remember getting close to him but from the instant, I saw him I knew he was the one who held my heart.

           I stopped running and turned around looking at him, “What Peter? What is it? I didn’t expect to see you here.” I turned around trying to hide my face and the feeling of hurt. It felt as though my heart was breaking all over again.

           When he looked at me his breathing became uneven, “Why are you avoiding me? Why are you running away from me?”

           He wanted to know why I was avoiding him, was he kidding me? Did he really want to act like it never happened? Did he want to never acknowledge that he slept with me six months ago? And never speak of it again? Could I really speak to him now of all times? 

           “Pete, I have nothing to say to you.” As I turned around, he took my hand and the warmth of his hand made me question everything.

           “Please Emma tells me what’s going on.”

           Now I am pissed off how he can just act like nothing happened between us? I was going to lose it. I couldn’t help it how I felt right now.

           “Do you want to know what’s going on with me? After you left me, no I take it that back after you kicked me out after fucking me, my uncle beat me up and I ran away. I don’t know why I put up with it for so long, probably because I thought…” I rambled on, telling him everything. 

           I turned because I couldn’t face him, I couldn’t tell him that I still loved him. Especially when I shouldn’t after what he did. But what can I say I must enjoy disappointment?

           I wanted to turn around, run to him and cry in his arms but I couldn’t. I was so used to running away; it’s only a matter of time before he broke my heart again.

           I felt his grasp on my hand. The warmth of it seemed to calm my irritation with him.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I feel bad that I let this happen. I should have never said that I wanted you to forget what we did. I should have been there! I’m so sorry, Emma. I should have stayed.” I could see the sincerity in his words, his emotional I’m sorry hit me right to the core.

           But I was afraid to open up. If I told him, I loved him and that I never stopped, then what’s to say he wouldn’t leave again. I just stared into his eyes, my heart aching for his touch. The gentleness of his skin gliding on mine.

           God, what’s wrong with me? How could I think of sex at a time like this? After all, the heart wants what it can never have. There is a reason why it’s called unrequited love, it’s because nothing is satisfying, no one is good enough, just him.

           I lost my virginity to him; I gave him my love but I didn’t get a chance to tell him I loved him.

           Pete, I love you so much. I never stopped loving you, but I’m afraid to open up to you.

           I couldn’t say this out loud to him, if he only knew how tempting he was right now. Pleading for my forgiveness and why? 

“Tell me something, Pete? Why now? Why are you asking for my forgiveness now? Huh?” I didn’t want to sound so aggressive but I couldn’t help it.

“It’s because I want to tell you, Emma, I love you so much, I shouldn’t have let you go. I want to reconcile with you, see if we can work us out.”

I held my hand up to stop him from speaking. “You want to work everything out? How can you say that to me! You left me! I gave you, my virginity! I gave you, my heart! I would have said I love you in that moment that’s why I came over to see you and when I learned that you left Jasmin, I was happy. But you lied to me, you went back to her. I will never be able to forgive you.” As the tears rolled down my cheeks, seeing the hurt in his eyes I yanked my hand away and ran so fast he couldn’t keep up.

I have never felt so much heartbreak. I wanted him to be hurt as much as he had hurt me that day. I went dark on social media for so long, finally getting the courage to come back slowly and I didn’t know how to tell everyone that I knew what happened to me. 

I should hate him, even after what he said, I wanted a lot but I didn’t have it in me. No matter what happened I couldn’t stop loving Pete Jacobs. 

The coming months followed after my outburst with Pete; months turned into one year. 

           For the first time, I finally had my shit together. I started attending community college just to take a literature course, and a creative writing course as well, I worked part-time as an assistant at a small business called TechStar Inc. an upcoming business. I didn’t make minimum wage thank god, because being an assistant I felt like a servant. At least I could get paid for it. 

           Even though I was not even near Pete I always thought of him, I know I shouldn’t have been. But I still did, I couldn’t walk back to Logan Beach where it happened. The hurt, the yearning for him.

           Sometimes, I wondered why he didn’t find me? It was at that moment, I knew why he didn’t, because I really hurt him. I hurt him the same way he hurt me, and I wish I hadn’t done it. 

           After work, I walked to the grocery store to pick up a few things to make for dinner chicken alfredo, and garlic bread, and raspberry port wine. 

           With my purse over my shoulder, my phone in my hands as I scroll through my socials, I check to see a friend request. I click and see it’s him, Peter Jacobs.

           Do I dare? Okay, it wouldn’t hurt maybe he wants to talk. Damn even though he isn’t a part of my life I still want him to run to him if good or bad stuff happens to me. 

           I clicked the accept button on my friend requests, and as soon as I did I got a Private Message from him.

Emma Clarke come to my house please I need to talk to you, please I’m begging you.

           I look at my messenger text not sure of what to say. God, just so he is begging you...

           When I text him back, I said four words, Ok bright there.

           After a long ride to his house, I knocked on his door. I was still in my work clothes with my groceries in my hand. I wanted to run again, but I couldn’t as if my feet were planted firmly on the stone stairs outside his house. 

           I scrolled through his social media profile looking at his profile and his relationship status said, Single when the door opened fast. When I turned around to see him, he looked like a total mess.

           “Emma, can you come in, please, oh you have groceries?”

           I nodded fast, “Yes I just got off work was planning on making chicken alfredo, garlic bread, and bought some wine. I can make some in the kitchen if you want while you tell me what’s going on.” 

           “Sure, come in please Em.”

           I walked inside of his house, going straight to the kitchen. I made myself at home in the kitchen, cutting everything, cooking it slowly. As I did everything in the kitchen, he watched me. I couldn’t believe how handsome he looked even after a year he was very attractive. I glanced over, smiling slightly as I looked at the color of his skin. The slight brown looks like a bronze color when the sunshine hits it. His mole on the left part of his cheek made him even more attractive.

           When I walked over to the table picking up the loaf of frozen garlic bread I smiled as I read the directions. 

           Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.

           I walk over to the oven to preheat it, then I turn around to look at him. The crease of his smile on his face was radiant. 

           “Do you have any wine glasses? Could you get them for me?” I sighed as my body felt tired.

           “Sure, anything for you.” He spoke.

           When he said those words, I knew that he was right. 

           I watched him from the corner of my eye as he opened the cupboard picking up two glasses. 

           “I can open the port if you want?” 

           “Sure, by all means, happy to share. You know me, I always make too much for leftovers to take to work.” For the first time, I felt tired both physically and emotionally. 

           As the night proceeded, we were both on our fourth glass of wine and eating our second helping of the food I prepared. 

           “Oh god, this was the best meal I’ve ever had, dear.”

           I looked at him alarmed when he said, dear. 

           A part of me was happy when he said, dear.

           Our feelings for each other couldn’t be hidden anymore. 

           “Emma, what you told me last year really hurt me a lot. However, when you told me this, I thought about how I hurt you by asking you to never bring up our lovemaking. How you must have felt?” When his eyes locked on mine, he reached for my hand.

           “Pete I was wrong; I shouldn’t have told you that. I was scared of saying how I really feel. So, I said something I shouldn’t have said just so I could hurt you the same way you hurt me. I’m so sorry sweetheart.” I looked down feeling so ashamed.

           I wished I could take it back, I really did. The hurt I felt, the bittersweet emotions of him asking me to go and to never bring up again what we did together. As I replayed the memories of what we did, I look down blushing bright red when he grasps my hand.

           “Tell me something, darling. How do you feel about me? You know how I feel.” The way he said this, his smooth words are like silk chocolate so intimate.

           “Pete, I never told you this. I was afraid of rejection. I love you, Peter. I have always been in love with you. I just was scared of how I feel. As I’ve never been in love before.” As I look into his eyes, my passion, my emotions, everything is awakened right now.

           “Why didn’t you tell me, Emmie?” His voice wasn’t cruel, just concerned.

           “Because I thought you never loved me, I thought you felt sorry for me. I ruled my emotions as unrequited love. But I was wrong about that too. Guess my fucked-up childhood, and my uncle really made me have low self-esteem from when he beat me.” I took a long sip of wine sitting the glass down looking at him.

           “Well, now my dear this love is requited, because I truly love you, Emma Clarke.” 

           As he confessed his love to me, feeling safe and happy, but most of all loved. I felt happy in this journey we call life.