And It's Time to Go

Not even an hour later and I was ready to leave. He was out of my sight now, and could've anywhere from in the next room to an arm's length behind me, when I didn't want to be anywhere near him. It was uncomfortable and unnerving, to say the least.
 
Isabelle, though, seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself--something that seldom happened, at least at all of the parties I'd been to with her. She was still chatting to that guy, who's name I later found out was Will. They weren't as paying as much attention to each other anymore. They seemed to just be people-watching, sharing their observations with each other every now and then. That was something Isabelle often did at parties, because she usually got so bored. She enjoys studying people, and has picked up enough to be able to read them quite well. I wish I'd met her sooner.
 
She still hadn't realized he was here yet, though, as I'm sure she would have said something otherwise. I debated whether I should tell her, and whether or not I should ask if she could give the number so I could get a ride home. The longer I sat there, the clearer the answer became.
 
I nudged Isabelle slightly, and called her by her nickname "Iz," which was our code for when we needed to talk, immediately. When she turned to reply, I motioned for her to slide over, so we could talk more confidentially. I whispered to her, telling her that he was here. She knew right away who I was talking about, and began apologizing up and down about it. I cut her off, explaining it was fine, it wasn't her fault, and that I wouldn't have thought of it either, but I had to leave. I was starting to feel sick, like I usually do when I get to much anxiety. She nodded in understanding, and gave me the number.

I said goodbye to both her and Will, and then headed out to a quieter spot, the entry, so I could make sure I could hear the person. It was a quick conversation; they picked up on the second ring, I gave them the address, and they said they'd be here in about twenty minutes. It wasn't as soon as I'd have like, but it got me out of there, so I took it.

After I hung up, I took a look to see what was around me. I thought I'd check-out some of the exhibits while I waited. The building was almost as old as film itself, so there had to something interesting around. I spotted a wall that was lined with old movie posters. Seeing as how many of my favorites were from film's earlier days, and having time to kill, I wondered off to look.

They happened to have one for one of my favorite films, a black and white film from the late fifties. It was about a girl who was in a relationship with an older guy, and it followed them from before they met to after they broke up. It wasn't one of the classic or a popular one, but I always loved it. It was ahead of its time, I thought, with the way it showed it. It was so raw, so real, and unlike anything else from the same time. That was what I'd always I'd liked, at one time or another. And after Tony and I broke up, it became something I personally related to, with the way they showed the relationship resonating deep with me.
 
"'But you see, if I don't go now, Mr. Greyson…'" I said out-loud, quoting my favorite line from it.
 
"…I fear I never will."
 
My whole body stiffened. That voice…no, no...
 
"That was a good movie," he said. "Ahead of its time, that's for sure. You still like it, right?"

He was standing right behind me. If he took another step forward, I would have felt his breath on my neck. I wanted to completely ignore him, and pretend he wasn't there, that I couldn't hear him. Then maybe he would go away and leave me be. But I froze in place completely, so that plan wasn't going to work. So I stood still, hoping he'd get the message and leave.
 
"Let's go over here," he said, putting his hand on my back. I melted a little and absentmindedly went. He guided me down the hall and around the corner, away from the crowd’s view. I remained stoic, unwilling to turn to look at him, and upset at myself that I had let him lead me there. He walked into my view.
 
"Hey, Jane…"
 
"What?!" I snarled out.
 
He was quiet for a moment, and then continued. "...I've really missed you."
 
"Can't say I've felt the same."
 
He looked to the floor and smiled.
 
"I figured you wouldn't."
 
"Of course I wouldn't."
 
He was quiet for minute, but then said: "I'm sorry, Jane. I'm really sorry."
 
"'Sorry' isn't enough now..."
 
"I know, I-I just…I still feel bad. I didn't want to break up, I didn't want to lose you."
 
"Well, that's what happened. And it's also in the past--where I think it should stay." I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm to pull me back. He quickly realized what he'd done, and loosened his hold, though not letting me go.

I turned and looked him straight in the eyes, upset. But then for a moment, I didn't see the disheveled mess he'd become. I saw the man I once knew, the one with excitement and a light in his eyes. And with it, memories came flooding back, of all the time we spend together, and everything we did. It happened within less than a second, but long enough for me realize something: I loved him. I still loved him. But not this him. He wasn't that person anymore. And I couldn't stand how much he changed. I hated it. He wasn't the same person I use to know, and I couldn't stand how he'd changed. And it's funny, because I didn't think I'd ever see the guy I once knew again, but now as I looked at him, in his eyes, I did. And I saw our adventures, all the places we went, the long conversations we had, our last good date, and how it seemed like nothing could top it.
 
And I remembered how things seemed to change after that. Pretty soon, we didn't go anywhere or do anything too often anymore, and when we were together, we barely talked to each other. We were just there together, two people next to one another. And I knew then that what we had was long gone, and there was no getting it back.
 
"Tony, I'm sorry," I said, trying to be firm with him. "But I'm not the same girl you use to know, and you're not the guy I fell in love with. We both know that."

"Well, we’ve both changed. Maybe things can be different now, and can work out again."

I shook my head. "No, Tony, they can’t. We’re not the same two people who met that afternoon. Things have changed. They’re too different now to work. Look, I love you, and I hate what's happened. But I've had to accept the facts, and I've had let go. You need to now, too."
 
He let go of my arm, and silence filled in between us then, restraining us from doing anything. We just stood there, in quiet, until he spoke up again.
 
"I gues…you're right. You're right Jane. You're absolutely right." He shook his head, letting out a laugh, which sounded like he was holding back crying. I'm sure he was, and I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. His life had long been on track to end up like it had, and here was another thing going. And I was kinda sad as well—for crying out loud, I used to be in love with the guy. And it would have been wonderful to still have what we did, but either of us could.
 
I thought I saw a tear on his face. I reached out to wipe it away, and then patted his shoulder. He put his hand over mine, and we stood there for a minute, until he took his hand off mine.
 
"We should get going," he said. "They'll be looking for me soon enough."
 
"…yeah," I said, a little surprised by the reluctance in my voice. "I've got to catch my ride."

He let go of my hand and hugged me. As he let go, he kissed my forehead.

“Goodbye Jane," he said softly.

"Goodbye Tony."