Relevance

My intentions had been different.

I intended on apologising as gracefully as I could, leaving room for little silences and no prolonged goodbyes; on capturing a last glance of Georgia, letting go of what had never been mine.

My body detached itself from my mind, taking the lead, following my heart’s desire instead of a logical trace of thought. Now was a good time as any to have the ability to go back in time. I crossed a line. And I wasn’t sure if the other side was greener.

I distanced myself just enough to look at her, our foreheads inches away, our lips now further than I desired. Our breaths were heavy and her eyes echoed a concoction of emotions—surprise, shock, confusion.

She took a few disorientated steps back without breaking eye contact, as if her movement could take her back to the other side of the line I just crossed. Whenever she took a breath in, she opened her mouth ever so slightly to speak, yet no sound came out.

“I was just, uh…” I knew it was a death mission yet here I was, throwing myself into the battlefield without ammunition. Hell, if I had already crossed the line, I might as well do it properly.

“I’m in love with you.”

“What?!” she blurted out.

I paused and blinked for two seconds longer than usual, absorbing how difficult the next few heartbeats would be. “I’m really sorry if that’s weird for you to hear… but I needed you to hear it. I just—“

“What are you doing?” she said with the widest gaze I had ever seen on her.

I lifted a corner of the mouth as an attempt to smile, shrugging my shoulders. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was going to leave in the morning. I was never going to have another chance to tell her. And if I didn’t, the what-ifs would’ve consumed me.

“What do you expect me to say to that?”

Her questions were a sharp knife threatening my stomach. I knew where this was going and my body hurt in precipitation. “I just needed you to know.”

“Well, I—uh,” her hoarse voice spoke, “I—I can’t.”

“Yeah,” I lowered my gaze and shoved my hands, which were now cold from the absence of her warmth, inside my pockets. I knew it’d come to this, but some part of me insisted on believing in a different outcome. Isn’t that the definition of insanity?

“You have no idea—“

“C’mon,” I shook my head ‘no’, knowing exactly what she’d say next. I wouldn’t be able to withstand the fall if she uttered the words “lose” and “friendship” in the same sentence. “Don’t do that. I don’t want to do that.” I could feel the intensity of my fierce eyes on her. “I want more.”

“I can’t,” she repeated as though it were a mantra. Through a whisper, she said, “I’m sorry.”

Her eyebrows were knitted and her eyes were downcast. I wondered whether my apparent disappointment contaminated her eyes. I swallowed down the desire to punch a hole in a wall—timing was such a bitch.

But I didn’t back down. I was already a mile across the line, what difference would two make? “Why not?”

She looked at me puzzled, as though I were insane for asking. “I’m with Scott, John.”

“Why him?” I persisted, thinking back to that time after the bar when I had asked her the exact same question. “And don’t tell me it’s because he’s always been there. I’ve always been here. Sure, it’s only been a week. But I have always been here. And I intend on always doing that.”

Her eyebrows returned to its normal position, making her eyes soften. Taken by surprise with my memory, she asked, “You remember that?”

I let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah.” I pointed my index finger at her, taking a step closer with a solemn face, “And that’s the problem, Georgia,” my hands fell to my sides. “I remember everything. I can’t just walk away ‘cause every time I think about doing that, I remember it all.

“I remember when you stood in the corridor of that plane, checking for the umpteenth time if you had gotten the right row; when you almost got away the first time that time you knocked on my hotel door, and how I felt at the thought of never seeing you again; when you walked down that aisle like you might had been holding my heart instead of flowers; when you hugged me goodbye at the wedding and I felt like I lost you for a second time; when your eyes lit up talking about your art that night, little knowing that’s what happened to me whenever I thought about you; when…”

I thought about our kiss and I looked at her lips for a second too long. My gaze returned to her eyes as I resisted the temptation with all of my might. “Well, here I am, losing you for a fucking third time."

Georgia returned to her previous seat at the edge of the pavement, resting her head on a hand, trying to process things.

“Why’d you have to mess this up, John…” she whispered more to herself than anyone else.

I half-smiled as I walked to sit next to her. “That’s just one of my many talents.”

She chuckled whilst she examined her hands with such focus, it seemed as though she might find the answers to this mess in between the lines if she stared at them for long enough.

“Okay, I’ve spoken enough words to fill up a novel.” I nudged her, “Your turn.”

Georgia crossed her arms on her knee and rested her head on them, facing me. “I don’t want you to leave.” I bit my urge to grin like a fool. “But you’ll have to leave. Your life’s on the road, John. And I’d be the one who loses you countless of times.”

My smile erupted and I leaned in closer, anticipating the taste of her lips before I got to them. “I guess we’ll have to do something about that.”