I Won't Say I'm in Love

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I sighed in the dark, staring out the large viewing window to the right. There were trees blowing in the wind. There was a thunderstorm raging outside. I frowned and leaned against the headboard of Samantha’s large bed. I couldn’t believe she had talked me into this again. I was sitting in the diner, thinking about how I was going to break off our little affair, when Sam rolled over on her skates. I couldn’t help but notice how amazingly her roller girl outfit flattered her.

“Hey, sexy,” she purred before sitting down in the booth across from me. “You said you wanted to talk?” I nodded. When I had requested the meeting, I was nervous about what to say. Sam could be kind of clingy, and ending things with her might not go so well. “Why don’t you and I go talk somewhere more private, huh? Like, your room for example…” She gave a sultry smile and leaned forward, reaching out to pushy my hair out of my eyes. I calmly, but coldly dodged out of her way. Her face fell and she pulled back.

“Nate, what’s up with you? You’ve been acting really weird lately,” she demanded, glaring at me. I stared at her silently, her blue-green eyes betraying her anger. “Look, if you’re not up for this anymore, I would rather you told me than let me believe otherwise.” I gave an inward sigh of relief.

“Great. Then I don’t want to do this anymore,” Sam was silent. The anger in her eyes changed to hurt. Shit, I thought to myself.

“Excuse me?” Her neat eyebrows had flown up to the top of her head, threatening to disappear into her hairline.

“I don’t think we should continue…this,” I whispered, gesturing between the two of us. Sam was still in shock.

“Well, why?” she asked, her voice revealing how wounded she actually was, and making my heart involuntarily give a pang of guilt. I knew the real reason. The reason I hadn’t been expecting:

The fact that I was undoubtedly, unquestionably, unmistakably in love with Calypso.
That every time I saw her coming toward me, I couldn’t help but become hyperaware of everything I was doing: the way I was talking; standing; breathing. That every time I was in her presence, my heart seemed to weep with joy, and whenever I was out of it, my soul ached and my mind was always occupied with the next time I would get to see her again. That whenever she smiled at me, I could hear church bells ringing, and envision our whole future together, and I could feel my life—my chaotic, and tumultuous life—finally falling into place, piece by promising piece.

However, that wasn’t something I planned on telling Sam.

“I don’t know. It’s just…not fun anymore.” That was a lie. Having sex with Samantha Anderson had to be one of the funnest things ever. However, it was the best excuse I could come up with. Sam’s expression stayed the same.

“I don’t get it—”

“Samantha, you don’t have to get it. The fact is that I’m done.” As soon as those words came out of my mouth, not only did I realize tit were the wrong thing to say, but I deeply regretted them. Her face was devoid of any and all emotion, except for her eyes, which were filling up with tears. Shit damn.

“When you say ‘you’re done,’ you mean you’re done with me, right?”

“Sam—”

“And your feelings are more important than mine—”

“Samantha, please—”

“And what I want means absolutely nothing. Right?” I was silent. I watched as she kept her eyes wide open, afraid if she blinked, a tear would fall. Her bottom lip was trembling and her voice was wavering.

“Samantha, when we started this, neither of us wanted a commitment. We agreed that we were just...doing favors for each other.” Taking a deep breath, Sam closed her eyes, letting a tear roll down her cheek. My heart broke a little for her.

“Sammy…” I breathed. Samantha promptly wiped her single tear away, and with it, all visible emotion.

“You’re right,” she stated coldly, her voice steady and strong once again. “You mean nothing to me, and I obviously mean nothing to you.”

“Samantha—” She stood up and got ready to head back to the kitchen. Before she left, she said, “You have some underwear left at my house that you forgot to take. I suggest you come over tonight to get them, while my parents are out of town.” She gently ran her finger once over the place where her traitorous tear slid. After examining the black smudge on her finger that was her mascara, she cursed silently to herself. “This is when I need waterproof mascara.”

A small, familiar hand came out of nowhere, handing Samantha what I assumed to be a tube of waterproof mascara. I followed the arm of this girl, only to find my sister’s eyes glaring back at me. My heart dropped. Besides Calypso, she was the last person I wanted to have heard that conversation. “Keep it,” Konstantina muttered, not looking at Sam, but keeping her eyes on me. Samantha nodded, muttered a gracious, “Thanks,” under her breath, and uncomfortably rolled away. My sister and I stared each other down for a few more moments before I decided I should speak up.

“Tina—”

“Still haven’t changed your whoring ways, have you?” My ego shattered. Konstantina reluctantly occupied the space Samantha had just vacated, never letting her eyes leave me. I stared at my fingers; Tina stared at me; we were both silent.

“You have a girlfriend, Nate,” she finally muttered.

“I know,” I whispered.

“Really? Well, you’ve certainly got a funny way of showing it.” I sighed. For some reason, this action seemed to make her angry.

“You lied to her face, Nathaniel!” she hissed, leaning forward, her eyes burning. I flinched at her use of my birth name. Although I used hers and her nickname interchangeably, she only addressed me as “Nathaniel” when she was only suffering my presence to lecture me.

“Again, and again, and again—”

“Don’t you think I know that, Konstantina?” I snapped. “Don’t you think it kills me that I have to lie to her face whenever she asks about Sam?”

“‘Have to lie?’ Do you even fucking hear yourself—?”

“Yes. I ‘have to lie.’ Calypso is a fragile girl—”

“She is a big girl, Nathaniel,” Tina spat. “She deserves the truth, and you deserve to deal with however the hell she takes it.”

“What if it means losing her, Tina?” I demanded, my voice hoarse due to the unwanted lump in my throat. I can’t believe I’m ready to cry over some girl, I thought to myself. I saw Tina’s eyes soften a little at my show of affection.

“Well, if that’s the case, I guess you’ll just have to deal with it, won’t you?” I could hear the apology masked in that sentence, and see it hidden in her eyes. I silently appreciated it. The tender moment was soon over, however. “But for that, Nathaniel? For her?” she demanded, pointing savagely in the direction that Sam had departed in. My shoulders sagged.

“You’re such a fucking imbecile,” she said, beginning to stand. My stomach jumped.

“Wait! Tina,” I called.

“What?” she asked exasperatedly. I took a deep breath before diving into my dangerous question.

“Please don’t tell her.” Tina’s eyes flew open.

“Seriously, Nathaniel. You’re asking me to lie to one of the most important people in my life to cover your ass? Wow. I don’t even know what to say,” she laughed humorlessly.

“Tina—”

“You’re unbelievable, Nate. You really expect me not to tell my very best friend—the other half of my soul—that her boyfriend has been sleeping around with the very girl she’s been suspicious of this entire time?” I nodded. “Nathaniel—”

“I stopped it, didn’t I?” I whispered, determined to at least win this argument. She didn’t answer. “Konstantina, you don’t understand how badly I want this to work. I can see a future with this girl. One that I want so, so terribly. Please try to comprehend that. Please help me keep that a possibility.” Tina’s eyes were wet, and she was obviously torn.

“Nate…” she breathed. I reached across the table and took her hands in mine.

“Please,” I begged. I implored with my eyes for a few more moments before she sighed and pulled her hands out of mine. I stared at the table, as she began to walk away. At the last minute, she stopped next to me and glared.

“You know, I really thought you had changed, Nate.” My ears perked up. “I so wanted to believe that I could believe in you again. That…maybe I had an older` brother I could finally count on.” I reluctantly looked up at her and saw a tear slip down her cheek.

“I was so wrong…” she muttered. Her eyes hardened. “I can’t even fucking look at you right now!” she said angrily through gritted teeth. She wiped her finger across her cheek and looked at it, searching for any trace of mascara. She gave a dry laugh and showed me her clean finger.

“Thank God for waterproof mascara, huh?” And, with that final, biting line, she skated off.

I came back to the present with an unpleasant snap, the wind still whistling outside in the trees. I looked over at Samantha, sleeping soundly beside me, exhausted but content. I hated myself more than ever right now. Quietly, I eased my way out of her bed, grateful for its lack of squeakiness. I crept silently around the room, picking up and putting on scattered articles of my clothing. The last thing I put on was my blue button up shirt. I groaned as I realized one of the buttons was gone. When ripping my shirt off, Sam must have accidentally dislodged a button.

“Dammit,” I muttered, getting down on my knee to look for it. It was a small, clear button, but this was my favorite shirt and I needed it. I had been searching for the button for over ten minutes, becoming more and more panicked with each passing second, before I heard Samantha clear her throat. My head was under the bed where I had been feeling around for the button, my butt up in the air. I started a bit when I felt Samantha straddle my back, causing the back of my head to accidentally bang into the bed frame.

“Ow, “ I moaned, backing out from under the bed. Sam was wearing nothing but a white comforter, which we had slept under that night. Putting her arms around my neck, she tenderly kissed the spot on my head where I had bumped it. I sighed. She was so good to me, and I was so terrible in return. She reached behind us and smacked me on my arse, making me chuckle.

“Why are you dressed, handsome?” she murmured in my ear before beginning to nibble on it. I gently shrugged her off and stood up.

“Because I’m leaving,” I said, packing my leftover underwear into a bag. Frowning, Sam curled her legs up to her chest and leaned her chin on them. Her long, smooth legs peeked out from the slit in the comforter.

“What…why?” she asked.

“Because this wasn’t supposed to happen, “ I said, gathering my coat

“If it wasn’t supposed to happen, then it wouldn’t have happened,” she protested, standing up and walking over to me.

“Look. I came to grab my underwear that I left here. Then you ripped my shirt off—”

“Oh, I’m sorry that once your shirt is off, you just have to go ALL the way—”

“SAMANTHA!” I shouted. She gave a gasp, momentarily taken aback by me yelling at her. “I did not intend for this to happen—”

“Oh, you’re SOOO righteous, Nate! I’m sorry that I’m such an amazing succubus that even after seven minutes of foreplay, you still couldn’t find the right time to pull away.”

“You knew what you were doing, Samantha.”

“As did you—”

“Don’t make this about me—”

“BUT THAT’S ALL IT’S ABOUT, NATE!” she screamed. I blinked as a tear ran down her face, which she angrily wiped away. The air between us crackled with tension. I watched her with reluctant sorrow as she stared hard at the wall behind me, trying hard not to cry.

“That’s all it’s been about this whole time,” she whispered, nervously watching her toe grind into the wooden floorboards. “You wanted a constant fuck buddy, so you called me. Then you found a girl whom you actually care about, and decided that I was an inconvenience to your blossoming relationship, so now you’re ditching me.” I was silent as she turned her gaze to me, her eyes burning into mine.

“But that’s just the thing, Nate,” she continued. “I’m not some pin-up doll. You can’t use me when you’re horny, and then toss me aside when I become boring or broken or embarrassing. I am a person. With feelings.

“So I’m sorry if I’m not disappearing as easily as you’d like. And I’m sorry that I’m not going to let my heart be broken in silence. But you have to deal with it.” Another forbidden tear slipped out of her eye.

“Sammy…” I whispered, taking a step toward her. She stepped back at the same time.

“I don’t want your pity, Nate. I want you to care. I want you to love me…like I love you.” I gazed at her, with so much sympathy filling my heart, for a moment, I thought I loved her back. But I realized that that wasn’t the case. I wanted so bad to be able to give her what she so willingly gave to me, but I simply couldn’t. My sympathy was just that: sympathy. And there was no way for me to transform it into anything else. Not even love.

“I want you to want me,” she continued. “Not just my body. But me.” I took a deep breath and looked at the floor, which made her give me a small smile. “But you can’t give me that, can you?” she said hoarsely. I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say, or how to say it.

“Please go,” she requested softly.

“Sam—”

“Please.” She still didn’t look at me. I took in the sight of her standing there so humbly—wrapped in an overlarge blanket with no make-up or hair product—and I realized that this was the most beautiful I had ever seen her.

I walked out of her room, closing the door softly behind me. As I descended the stairs, I heard the crash of something fragile being furiously flung against the wall, followed by the sharp breaths that accompanied pathetic sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered quietly before I opened the front door and walked to my car outside.