Five Reasons Men Lie

I’m not going to say it was a summer afternoon, or a comfortable spring night, I don’t even want to be cliché and say it was fate or destiny. I happened to meet a quiet, intelligent, handsome boy with a secret that would tear my heart to shreds a mere year after our first meeting. On a boring day in a boring month, at my boring college café.

I had seen him on campus before, dressed in all black, a guitar on his back some days, a book bag on others.

That stupid guitar is what caused our meeting, not fate or any of that crap.

The café was filled to maximum capacity and unfortunately the only table that was open was good ol’ spill-a-holic. Not a fan of being outdoors I just bit the bullet and took the table; I’m sure my dark clothes and dark makeup would ward off anyone who was clumsy enough to spill their coffee.

I had hoped anyone.

The bonehead should have known that a guitar in this small shop, at this time, would be foolish, but later I would learn that he was in a hurry and didn’t wish to be bothered.

I was reading the next chapter in my textbook for my history class coming up and I just happened to look up at the exact moment the boy with the guitar was turning around with his drink. The base of his guitar knocked in to my table successfully spilling my coffee on my book and on me.

I jumped up out of my chair and began wiping the hot liquid off my dress.

I thought he was going to be an asshole and walk away but he turned quickly and apologized.

“Fuck I’m so sorry.”

“…It’s okay.”

It really wasn’t my thighs were on fire and my book was now unable to be bought back because of the damage. But he was handsome and what girl wanted to be a jerk to a guy with a pretty face?

“I feel like an asshole,” he mumbled he then reached for something in his back pocket, “Um can I buy you another coffee?”

I nodded my head; normally I wasn’t very open to a stranger mending a situation but he was pretty and I thought why the hell not? It would take the eyes off of me once everyone realized there wasn’t going to be something more to gawk at.

“What did you have?”

“A caramel latte.”

He nodded his head and ordered for me. He even waited for the drink to arrive.

“Once again I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright,” I chuckled, “Thank you for the coffee.”

“Anytime,” he gave me a wave and then left in a sprint.

I took a sip from my drink and went for a napkin. I stopped abruptly when I saw a number written on it.

Above the number was a name: Ricky Olson.
***

A few days later when I was sitting in my English lit class; I decided what the fuck why not?

I wasn’t seeing anyone and he had proven to be a decent human so I shot him a text.

I smiled our conversation was amusing and much more entertaining than anything my professor could have told me. My heart sped up a little bit when he told me he wanted to see me.



***

The café visit led to several more visits and four dates. Which led to us becoming a couple. Every day from then on we would meet in the same place at eleven and if one of us got hung up or couldn’t make it we sent a text the other’s way.

So today I had been nervous Ricky hadn’t shown up and neither had a text.

When he hadn’t answered me after twenty minutes of waiting I sighed and gave up I hoped that he was okay. He never really did anything dangerous. He just played in a band that’s not too dangerous at least not to me anyway.

So that night when I was back in my home, I got a brief text from my boyfriend. He apologized for not answering. He said he would make it up to me the next day.

***
The next day came and he took me to the little lounge located down the street from our school. He bought me a drink and told me he’d be right back. A few minutes later he had taken the stage and I was in awe.

He performed a song for me and I loved it, it was heartfelt and genuine.

After his song I kissed him in front of the entire place and it embarrassed him, but in a good way.

So far it had been our best date.

Later that night we had made love for the first time.

It was quirky and funny and it felt right.
The next morning when I woke up Ricky was gone, but he left a note.

He said that he needed to run an errand for his friend but he would text me later about doing something that night. At the end of the letter, it said three little words that made my head spin.

I love you.

***

“Why did you lie and say you would be there?” I snapped at Ricky one month later, “I wouldn’t have cared so much if you told me we had to go another time.”

“I’m sorry Laney but this one kind of came up out of nowhere…”

He ran a hand through his hair showing off his tattooed arms, but to me it looked like a gesture that was so carefree. Carefree meant he didn’t care and that just worsened my agitation.

“Well what was it that held you up?”

“My friend Chris needed to run something by me for our band…”

“You skipped out on a date with me for a date with your bandmate?”

My anger was immeasurable; this was our first fight. The first taste of being pushed aside for something else ran my emotions wild.

Ricky rolled his eyes, “Babe I still came didn’t I?”

“An hour and a half late!” I barked, “And on top of that I sat a restaurant looking like an asshole!”

“What do I have to do to prove to you that I’m sorry?”

“Right now?” I scoffed, “Just go back to your apartment I want to salvage my night by reading a book alone, peacefully, in my bed.”

“Laney come on I’m trying to make it up to you…”

“You lied to me you can’t make it up to me this time…get out.”

This time when I told him to leave, he did. He looked back over his shoulder as if he hoped I would let him stay. However I did nothing but stand my ground.

***

***
I tried texting him a few months after our first fight again only to wait for answer. I had finally just concluded that Richard Olson was by far the worst texter to ever have a cellphone. So I just learned to call him on the phone.

He always picked up.

This time he didn’t.

He didn’t answer the other four times I tried to call him either.
***
When another two and half days passed without an answer, I called his friend Chris. I met him a few times, he was a nice guy, a great friend to Ricky. He was also very sweet and welcoming to me. I also knew that if Rick wasn’t with me he was with Chris.

Chris did pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hey Chris I was wondering if you heard from Ricky?” I asked him softly, “I haven’t heard from him in a couple of days and I’m worried.”

“Uh—” he began as if he was unsure how to answer; I heard a faint voice in the back before Chris answered again, “He’s just been holed up working on some music you know how we get when we get going…”

“Oh well okay, could you tell him to call me?”

“Yeah sure thing Laney...”

Chris hung up with me right after; something was right I immediately thought myself. And of course like every other girl I thought my boyfriend was cheating on me. All the signs were there, all my friends kept saying it since our first fight. They thought he was that ‘type.’

I wasn’t sure if he was.

I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.
***
When he did it once, I let it slide, the second too, maybe even the third, but fourth time? Hell fucking no.

When he didn’t pick up his phone, I didn’t bother leaving a voicemail. I just called Chris again.

“You better tell me where he is Chris or I’ll flush all of your makeup down the toilet!”

“It isn’t my place to tell Laney! Don’t take it out on me!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you told me where the person who deserves my anger is!”

“You know what?” he mumbled as if he were thinking outloud, “I think it’s time he told you, he’s at 133 Lexington, Fourth floor hang a left you’ll see door 87.”
***
I rushed over to the address his best friend had given me ready to kick some serious ass. But much to my surprise I was at a hospital. I followed the rest of Chris’ instructions, I rode the elevator to the fourth floor, took a left and nearly let out a sob when I read the plaque.



I opened the door to the waiting room and made my way over to the receptionist.

“Hi I was wondering if it’s okay for me to wait out here?” I asked politely with a smile, “My boyfriend asked me to bring an extra sweater for him…”

She smiled in return, “Who is your boyfriend?”

“Ricky Olson,” I replied, “Um Richard Olson III, is his full name.”

She looked convinced enough and pointed to a chair by her window; however before she let me sit she called to me.

“Miss?”

“Yes?”

“If you don’t mind me saying,” she said softly, “You should be proud of him he’s been doing so well with his Chemo.”

I swallowed the acid that rose from my stomach to return her kindness.

“I am.”

A half hour ticked by; I know because I focused solely on the minute hand of the clock on the wall across from me. I did my best to hold in the emotions I was feeling. I didn’t want to tip off the secretary that I really wasn’t supposed to be here.

Every time the door to the back of the office swung open, I had mixed emotions. I just felt sad, a little hurt, and scared. Was he going through this alone or was I the only one he didn’t trust?

Finally, after three patients my boyfriend finally emerged, looking gray and a little scrawny. I was glad I kept a sweater of his; I didn’t think I would need it for a reason like this but it was lucky just the same.

When he saw me he stopped dead in the middle of the waiting room, I held his hoodie out for him and he swiped it out of my hand rather rudely. I didn’t react, I waited for him to schedule his next appointment and then followed him out of the doctor’s.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to feel pity for me.”

He said almost coldly.

“I don’t feel pity Ricky,” I said quietly, “I feel hurt.”

“Hurt?”

I nodded my head, “Because you trusted everyone else but me.”

He sighed softly, “It’s not that I didn’t trust you Laney…I didn’t want you to look at me any different just because I’m sick.”

“I wouldn’t have.”

“Yeah right!” he snapped at me, “My own mother treats me differently because of this disease, what makes you think that you won’t?”

“Because I don’t love you for your disease…” I mumbled, “I love you for being your sweet, intelligent, creative self.”

Ricky smiled a small smile, “You love me?”

I nodded my head feeling the blush staining my cheeks.

“I love you too.”

I wanted to ask him if he felt well enough to share a kiss but he leaned in and stole one from me first; making me laugh. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed.
***
“So now as I read this Eulogy—” I took a moment to hold back a sob, “I realize that sometimes you lie to keep the person you love happy. I had no doubt in my mind that Ricky was my soul mate, but never once did I notice he was sick because he cared so much about my happiness that he forced himself to hide his pain. Now that his pain is over, I hope every one will join me when I say that he is free to be as happy as any one person could be…”

When most everyone, including Ricky’s parents left his grave, I set a black rose down on top of the casket. Quietly running my fingers over it.

The light from the dim sun glinted over my wedding band; I let a tear slip down my face. Ricky still wore his even though he only had two months to break it in.

“I love you…”

I was never sure as I walked away but I thought I heard the wind say I love you too