She took a deep breath, inhaling the clean fall breeze. She could no longer taste the sweetness of summer; the chill in the air suggested a winter frost was on the way. Shuddering at the thought of another cold winter in the city, the woman began to approach the park bench. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep her breathing constant, it took everything she had to not break down right then and there. The park bench had been in view for quite some time, but it seemed to take forever to get there. Everything had turned against her it seemed, for even time itself had slowed, just to make her walk of shame linger. So she watched the leaves falling in slow motion to distract herself, tried to find patterns in their flight, tried to find beauty in their final moments in the air. She wondered if the leaves knew that once they landed on the ground, the only life they will know is the one of pathetic tumbling along the park floor, being walked all over, and rotting. The same life that she knew all too well, she thought to herself with a smirk.
At last, she found herself in front of the wooden bench, and once she sat down, that was it. Her life, before that point on the bench ceased to exist. Her future beyond the time in the park became irrelevant. The events leading up to this moment in time, where the young woman is shivering from everything but the cold, is immaterial. This is just a window in time that closes its blinds to the past and future.
The woman and the bench are engulfed by a deep silence, the air surrounding her is eerily still.
The universe had tied her to this place in time, and the world had made it very clear that the events of the day were inevitable. She looked up at the perfect blue sky and once again blinked back the tears that were trying to ruin her act of perfect composure. With her chin held high, she knew the man sitting next to her on the bench could see through her fake demeanour.
His back was to her, she knew that he would rather look anywhere but in her direction. The thought brought with it an overwhelming sense of nausea. All she wanted was to look into his beautiful blue eyes, and to once again be the reason behind his warm laugh and smile.
“Hey,” she whispered. He didn't move. “Listen, I...” she continued, “I'm so..”
“Don't,” he interrupted, without turning to look at her. His muscles were stiff and he was as motionless as a statue. Only his hair betrayed the stillness, being ruffled by the cold wind, leaving a chaotic mess of beautiful brown on his head.
Under different circumstances, she would have reached over and laughed, fixing his hair to her liking. She smiled at the thought, aware that he couldn’t see it, and her hand lifted impulsively. He straightened immediately, looking over his shoulder; the woman gasped, for in his eyes, all she could see was burning rage and hatred.
He growled, “If you touch me,” but the rest of his sentence never reached her ears. Maybe he never finished it, maybe the wind drowned out his hurtful words, or maybe her heart refused to let her mind hear them. His sigh interrupted her train of thought. “This is over. There is no 'us' anymore.”
“No,” the unintentional whisper escaped her lips. She couldn’t believe how little control she had over herself; she was being impulsive, speaking from within, and not from her logical head.
This angered him more, “No?” It looked like he didn’t know whether to get up and leave, or stay sitting where he was. It hurt her to watch him now, she could see in his physique the turmoil he was suffering inside. She wanted to touch him and to comfort him. Her finger tips ached for his skin, but she kept her hands to herself. He was vulnerable, and she felt that the tiniest movement could scare him away.
Slowly, he began to calm down and she knew him well enough to understand that he had solved his inner conflict, and come to terms with the unacceptable reality she had placed him in. With his mood shift, a glimmer of hope reignited within her and the dull colours surrounding her entire outside world seemed brighter, and the silence seemed almost bearable.
“Do you think,” he began to say, “that you could ever love someone more than you love yourself? Do you think that you could ever grow out of your selfishness, and immaturity?”
All hope disappeared as she sat in awe. She had never seen him this way before, calm and collected, so sure of everything. She had prepared herself for his anger, and for his pardon. She never imagined that she would need to prepare herself for the end. The dumbfounded look on her face signalled him to keep talking.
“Oh, what now you can’t answer me? Here I’ll do it for you. The answer is no, you will never love any one more than yourself. Even if you ever learned to give it, you don’t believe that anyone is good enough or even deserves your unconditional love. No, you will never grow up and out of this eternal selfishness and immaturity.”
His eyes almost glittered as he spoke, he was mocking her. “You. Are. Pathetic,” he said painfully, almost as an afterthought. Shocked, the woman let out a sob, for she could no longer keep up with her emotions. The last words he spoke took the man by surprise too, and he reached over and placed his hand on her abdomen. The woman looked down at the familiar touch and the sobs came louder, her tears blinded her completely. “What have you done?” he asked over and over, emotionlessly. The question wasn’t directed to her, it was directed to the world, the place he had once loved, but was now forced to hate. So she never answered him, she just sat there crying, looking down at the sidewalk that seemed to pity her current state. The more she cried, the more his anger seemed to swell. “Shut up,” he snarled, into her ear. She could feel the moistness on his lips, he had been crying too.
She peered up at him, their faces only centimetres apart now, and she withheld her cry to satisfy him. “Do not speak, just listen,” he said, his breath smelt so sweet and familiar. “What we had before, was not a life, it was a routine.” He paused, to think or to breath, the woman wasn’t sure. “We were never perfect, but we were always happy. Never rich, but we had money. We might not be meant for each other, but we do belong together.” At this, he almost leaned in and kissed her, but he was
suddenly reminded of what she had done.
He pulled her in closer, held her tighter, his hand never left her stomach, and now he was almost clawing at her abdomen. His breathing was harsh, and when he spoke next, his voice was a raspy whisper. “We could have had more than a routine. The baby, our baby, would have meant that we would finally have a life. You and me, together, would have had something to live for. Your future wouldn’t have played out how you wanted it too, this I understand. Your stupid selfishness dismissed the idea that maybe life would have played out better.” A tear escaped his cloudy eyes, he was thinking of what they could have had. It was unbearable to look at him, so she tried to look away, but his other hand was quick to pull her face back. He had lost all sense of control, for he was squeezing her face. The woman, stifling a groan, let tears of pain roll down her cheeks. “You killed it,” he moaned, “you killed our baby, our future, our life. You killed everything with your selfishness.” Another
pause, before he finished, “you killed us.”
The window that had once blocked off the past sent flashes through the woman’s head. Memories her mind had suppressed came rushing back. Days she spent with the man on the beach. The laughter they shared. The comfort they felt. Their best moments and
their worst. Making love to him into the early hours. The abortion clinic...
A scream parted her lips, and the man pulled away, startled.
The window remained open, however, and this time the woman witnessed the future. Images that she trained herself not to think about flooded every corner of her mind. A wedding, a ring. A baby shower, a baby crib. Her vows, and his vows. A baby boy, a baby girl, twins. Their life filled with happiness.
A sad smile crossed her face, and she looked up from her reverie. Paralyzed from emotion, her mind took a while to finally process the man’s figure, walking away. Time had inconveniently sped up. She couldn’t muster the strength to stand up and go after him, to fight for his love. He was leaving, and if she didn’t stop him now, he would be gone forever.
“Forgive me,” she finally managed to sob, her eyes begging.
He stopped for a moment, before he continued on his way. Over his shoulder the wind carried his whispered reply, “Never.” Her heart beat once more and she heard it echo into the infinite silence. She realized that she will forever be alone.
