Letting Go
They say when you love someone, set them free; if they come back again, then in the end…it was meant to be…
I sat there listening to the song by Barbara Streisand as it plays on the radio, tears glistening in my eyes. I briskly wiped them away as I stared back at the photo album I held in my hand. The page was opened to a picture of Mike and me together; set against the romantic background of the snow covered Swiss Alps.
“I knew it was wrong, that’s why I chose to leave.” I whispered to myself.
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Mike and I took the same photography workshop down at 5th Avenue, after work hours on Saturdays. That was how we first met. I was hesitant to join the seminar at first; I knew I have the talent, but it was my social skills that needed some polishing.
But my fears almost vanished when I entered the room and was met by a guy with wavy, brown hair and a ‘dazzling’ smile – a smile, I thought, that would’ve been more appropriate for a toothpaste commercial. I instantly felt at ease. He wasn’t particularly handsome, but he possesses an enigmatic face that drew me all the more to him.
“Hey, there! Are you new?” The guy asked.
“I’m Michael, by the way. But you can call me Mike.” He said flashing that smile again, as he extended his hand in greeting.
“Marc. Marc Dillon.” I answered slowly as I shook his hand, revelling at the feel of his warm hand clasping mine.
Being a ‘veteran’ (as he puts it), he offered to show me the ropes. He gave me tips on where to look for great views and picturesque sights. All of his advices were satisfactory; that even during our spare times on weekdays, we would end up chatting for long hours over the phone planning our next “picture date”. I found myself enjoying being with him and always looking forward to seeing him. At first I didn’t give much thought to what I was feeling. But as time passed, I was getting more interested in Mike. I adored him: his talent, his view of life and its beauty and simplicity. He just…excites me! Life with him seems to be so fun, carefree and bright. I realized then that I’ve fallen in love with him. “I love him”, I remember saying to myself when I realized it. As if trying to test if saying them out loud will lessen its reality.
Even with those newfound feelings inside me, our ‘friendship’ continued. Nothing changed on the outside; he wouldn’t have guessed that deep within myself, I was longing for him, loving him and actually wishing that he would eventually love me too.
It was nearing sunset, one day, when the two of us were strolling along the park; looking at the photographs that we had recently developed. He took one from the stack that he was looking at, and showed me a close-up shot of a pair of hands – apparently that of a Greek statue. I was slightly awestruck, “It’s beautiful.” I said softly. My gaze was riveted to the hand that was holding the picture; I raised my left hand and took his right. I touched his palm hesitantly at first, then more bravely, I lingeringly ran the tips of my fingers along the lines etched; “Just like your hands, very beautiful.” I whispered. I brought his hand up to an inch away from my lips, as I breathed in his scent — like morning dew and autumn — before placing a feather-light kiss on his palm. I only realized what I was doing when I noticed how intently he was staring at me; I was crestfallen. I immediately dropped his hand as if it was on fire, and turned my back at him bracing myself for his reaction; anything but what he did then. He encircled his arms around me, and whispered to my ear; “let’s go…” Everything seemed a-blur, the next thing I knew, we were already at my suite where we gave ourselves up to the passion that was consuming us.
Our ‘relationship’ went on for three months. Around this time, Mike was given an offer to become one of the regular photographers for a popular fashion magazine. Everything between us was the same until I started hearing rumours that he was seeing one of the female models. We ended up having an argument over it, but in the end I forgave him. I was already at that stage in our relationship that I can forgive him for just about anything. I have become oblivious to anything except for my love for him.
A couple of days after, I decided to pay him a surprise visit at his work place; hoping to entice him to go out for lunch as my way of making up for our fight. When I entered the dark room — where I was told he would be at after the photo shoot — I ended up getting the ‘surprise’. Mike was there alright, but he wasn’t alone. A leggy, dark haired female – which by the looks of it could be one of his models – had her arms around him, kissing him passionately. Worse, Mike was actually kissing her back with the same hunger, that they were almost tearing each other’s clothes apart.
I felt my jaw slack; as waves of anger, pain and frustration washed over me. My sudden entrance broke the two apart and when Mike realized it was me; he too stood there looking guilty and speechless.
I didn’t bother to hear what he’s about to say. I stormed out, running as far and fast as I could so as not to feel the breaking of my heart.
He found me sitting by the fountain at the park when he came looking for me. I still felt betrayed and in pain, not just because of what he did, but because I knew that our time together has come to an end. I’ve always known that he can’t, won’t, stay with me forever. Somehow I knew that he’ll eventually find someone else. Someone who’s right for him: the woman of his dreams. Not another ‘He’. As I shared my thoughts, he kept shaking his head; telling me that I was mistaken. That he loves me and I’m the only one for him.
“I love you, Marc.” He said, as he showered my face with kisses.
My heart broke all over again as I realized that the first time that I am hearing those words from him will also be the last.
“No Mike”, I said trying to muster enough courage.
“I love you…maybe too much. I probably always will. But I want you to live your life happily, normally.” I said trying my best to give him an encouraging smile through a sheen of tears.
“I’ll always treasure our time together.” I went on, “But, I wouldn’t want to be so selfish, as to try and keep you with me. At least, with a girl to love, there’s no need for hiding. We will still be friends, won’t we?” I asked, and with a last kiss on his cheek, I said my goodbye.
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Epilogue:Tears coursed down my cheeks as I stared blurrily at the last page of the photo album.
“I miss you, Mike.” I said, looking at the smiling face of my ex-lover.
“But I know that you’re happier and more content where you are now.”
I whispered as I traced the image of the sleeping baby girl nestled in her father’s arms.
My eyes went to the scented envelope tucked between the pages. I opened it, my eyes immediately focusing on the familiar scrawl at the bottom:
“Thanks for coming to the baptism.” It said.
I closed the photo album, the envelope still in my hand. As I returned the album back to its shelf, Barbara Streisand’s voice, floated to my ears: We live for the future, we will learn from the past. No matter, how hard we try some good things never last…Why can’t they last?
“Goodbye Mike.”
