In the End

These pictures on the wall remind me of how we'd tried. We were happy once. We loved each other more than anything...once. When he was a hospice nurse caring for the dying, I saw the most compassionate man I'd thought I'd ever meet. I was just a young, insecure writer looking for...something. Things were perfect for us until one day it all fell apart.

Things had become bumpy with Peter and me, even though I was trying my hardest to keep us together. I wasn't the desperate, stalker girlfriend. I was trying to stay with Peter during his "pre-mature mid-life crisis state". He'd began to isolate himself from me and disappear to unknown places. I'd think he was cheating on me, but I knew Peter better. Plus, his wonderful mother would have come running to tell me if something like that was happening.

When he was around, he was overly protective. Paranoid almost. He'd keep me away from other people, saying that he didn't trust them . It was like I was part of his property and no one else could have me, almost like he was making up for the times he was gone in some weird way. Over protectiveness turned into fighting. Looking back on it, I'm surprised our relationship got so far. He was trying, but he was giving up. I was too stubborn to right away.

The rain splattered against the windows, a spasmodic tapping. Thunder made my tiny apartment shake. It became dark outside, the world cast in a dark gray gloom as the thunder heads loomed over. I sat alone on my couch, my knees tucked under my chin, my breathing coming in short little sobs. Why did things like this hurt so much? I should have seen it coming. I wasn't worth it to Peter anymore, even though I stayed with him in the hospital and through all our times of thick and thin.

"I don't think this is going to work anymore," he’d said, looking me straight in the eye, waiting for my answer.

"Why?" I’d asked simply. That's all I wanted to know was "why"? Why was he so secretive? Why was he running across the country? Why was he doing this?

He blinked slowly. "I still love you, Jade. Let's just say...I'm protecting you."

"From what?"I asked.

"From me."

And that was the best explanation I got. He'd left me alone in the park--the first place we'd met–and I'd stood there, numb, until it'd began to cloud over. The wound was still too fresh for me to think of too much. I was being way too attached. I had to stop, but we'd put so much effort into our relationship, only to have it scattered by the storm. Things weren't the way they were before. This was the end of us and I couldn't let that go.

What the hell was wrong with me? I'd always been sensitive and under confident in myself and finding Peter had helped raise me up. But now that he was gone, it was like the foundation of my life was gone and I was back down at the bottom again. I felt like it was all my fault. It was my fault for letting this happen, I told myself over and over again in my dark desolate apartment.

I was too forceful in our relationship. He didn't want to hurt me by saying anything. He was keeping everything inside. I was beginning to realize how stupid I was to think I could find someone as good as I thought Peter was. He didn't care for me anymore. When it got to the end, it was like none of it mattered anymore.