Words, Words, Words

“Amelia, I’m sorry.”

The words felt like three weights had been lifted off my shoulders when they fell from my mouth. But I know I’m not off the hook yet. My apology is weak, not yet backed up and too sudden – yet way too late. She’s looking at me, completely shocked. Her pink lips open a little as she tries to think of something to say, but I stop her. I want to finish my speech before she judges me and shoots me down with her sour words.

“I put yeh through hell these past seven years, saying the mos’ negative, untrue comments I could think of. I jus’ didn’ know how else to defend myself when yeh would come at me with witty comments, yeh know? I wasn’ used to not having the righ’ comeback. And I mean, I know that’s not a good enough excuse for what I put yeh through, but I hope you can find it somewhere in yeh heart to forgive me.”

Amelia’s eyes stare me down. With her pretty mouth slightly ajar, her hands neutrally pinned down to her sides, she stares, stares, stares and I’m sure that at least ten minutes has passed before I snap, “If yeh don’ have anythin’ to say, can I jus’ go? Rejection is hard, even when it comes quick.”

“Rejection?” She repeats, finally letting her vocal cords go to work. She shakes her head, taking a deep breath and glancing down at her shoes before responding, “Oliver, I’m not rejecting you or your apology. This was just unexpected and I’m not exactly sure how to put my feelings into words.”

The little excuse for her pregnant pause is enough to keep me sane. I nod and let her take another moment to think of ways to express herself. But in this one minute, I’m tearing myself into pieces. I put her through hell, absolute bloody hell. I made her do things to her body that put her life on the line. I made her so insecure, when she had no reason to be. And I still went on with my day, the guilt eating at me for maybe minutes afterwards before fading away. I can’t believe I’m a human being.

“I’ve waited so long for an apology from you. And I know that sounds completely ridiculous, waiting for someone else to say sorry when half the fault is my own – “ She begins, but I stop her. Half the fault was her own? She’s so wrong.

“Half the faul’ was yeh own? Amelia, wha’ are yeh talkin’ abou’? Nothin’ was yeh faul’ in this. It was all me,” I quickly disagree. It was bad enough that I had almost cost Amelia her life, but to think that she was apologizing for it made it worse on my part.

Innocently, Amelia says meekly with big, sad eyes, “I provoked you.”

I swear, I almost pull my hair out. My hands shoot up to the sides of my head, grabbing handfuls of brown hair and tugging. This girl was absolutely insane. I cry out, “Provoked me? How on earth would yeh have provoked me to say those kinds of things?”

“Not all of it could have been false thoughts, Oliver,” She suddenly sneers. She grabbed my arms and pulls them down. My fingers brush through some of the small knots before my hands hit my thighs as they fall to my sides. “It’s obvious you think poorly of my appearance, which provokes you to say what you say about me. I guess I should be a bit thankful for bringing it to my attention and not saying it behind my back.”

“Yeh out of yeh bloody mind, woman,” I say, shaking my head, “Yeh makin’ it so hard to apologize to yeh because yeh not accepting the apology, yeh wipin’ it out with yeh own.”

Amelia just sighs in response and stares up at the night sky. The harsh winds of England kick in and I watch Amelia as she hugs herself against them. I take a deep breath through my nose before taking off my Drop Dead hoodie and resting it over her shoulders. She turns to me as one of her hands keeps the hoodie on her frame.

“You’re going to get cold, keep it,” Amelia insists, taking it off her shoulders and offering it back to me. So innocent, with such a big heart, I can’t stand knowing that I put her through all the agony before. It kills me to know I’ve caused all this damage as I look at Amelia’s thin, shaking frame.

“No, I’m fine. And anyways, if I need one, I can jus’ get one from inside,” I say, not taking the hoodie from her hands. She glances at it before sliding her arms in and hugging the cotton against her body. We both stay quiet for a minute as we stare at the filled driveway.

Amelia breaks this peaceful silence by asking, “So where does this put us now?”

I look at her, admire the way the moonlight hits her striking features; her button nose, her sparkling eyes, her plump lips, before replying with a depressing sigh, “As friends.”

“Alright,” She agrees, looking away from me and up at an airplane, flying overhead, “Friends.”