about last night . . .PART III

once we arrived at a's house around 2:45 am i realized that both of us were a little too intoxicated to completely restrain ourselves, but that didn't deter my urge to get answers to the questions that has lingered with me for the past two years. there were 6 other people with us, so privacy in a one bedroom apartment was not an option. it was raining and too cold for us to stand outside to talk so we resorted to juvenile measures and retreated to the tiny bathroom.

the door closes, the light is switched off and the door locks . we immediately stepped into our normal embrace - a simple hug - and the moment of truth weighs heavy in the small room . . .

did you miss me?
yes, i missed you, i miss you.
i began to cry (again - thank goodness for waterproof mascara . . . alcohol, ex's and emotions just don't mix)
he feels me crying and kisses me gently on the neck, a gesture that was a common greeting for us over the years.
did you ever really love you?
yes.
when did you know you loved me?
he puts his hands on both sides of my face, looks me in the eyes - as i sat in the airport waiting to get on a plane for the first time [in my life] to see you.
what happened, when did you stop?
i don't know. i'm so sorry, i don't know what else to say
i cry more.
don't do that, slim, please don't cry.
he takes my face in his hands, wipes away my tears, kisses me once on the lips and again on the neck. we stand holding each other in silence until our friends realize that we're missing and there is a knock on the door - what are y'all doing?
he whispers, when do you have a day off?

i understand the intent in this question or my perception of his intent and know that the innocence of this moment is fleeting and answer simply - i don't have any days off - and with that the moment is gone. in that small window of time, in that small bathroom i was left to pick up the few words that were slipping away and create closure . . . this was the end of a chapter that began horribly and could take an ugly turn. if i don't walk away at this point, i'm stuck . . .

i opened the door and walked into the noise and brightness of the room and never turned to look back at him. when he stepped out reality set in and he became someone from my past - a memory that i shall remember fondly, but still a simple memory. for the remainder of the night we continued to engage in conversation, mindful of the unspoken disconnect that had taken place. there is nothing that can change what we've shared, but the distance between us now is too great - we will always be close and know that one day we will look back at all of this and laugh . . .