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Incomplete

Posted on December 27, 2006
Filed Under The Stories |

In the quiet of the night she stole away, like a thief or a common vagrant. I wish I had been offered the chance to tell her that things didn’t need to end this way. We have to be bigger; we have to feel nicer after having done something that is essentially good for both of us. But she didn’t allow it. Leaving like that cannot have made her feel better. Telling the lies she will have to tell to make it seem like this is how it had to end will rid her of a tiny piece of her soul that can never be returned. It’s like age and the aches and pains that come with it. Debilitated vision and deteriorating stamina are realities we never come to terms with and yet we seem shockingly capable of living with a lesser soul. She stole away, like a common thief or a beggar who has taken what isn’t his. My heart is not broken. A long time had passed since the day that her leaving would have caused my heart even the slightest disrepair. All this amounts to, is a score improperly settled.

It’s like neglecting to apologise for accidentally tripping someone or not completely forgiving a long inconsequential slight because we didn’t feel properly compensated for the injury done to us. All of this residue bears down upon us – from fractionally missed deadlines to assignments turned in, in slightly less than perfect condition. From missed pecks on cheeks to neglected teardrops, each and every one of us owes tiny debts we can never repay. Debts that would be dismissed as too inconsequential by those they are owed to, yet somehow leaving us forever just a toehold away from being complete free of them. These are the unreturned favours that lead to the acceptance of social and work-related associations better judgment would advise against.

She stole away into the night, leaving behind a half-empty bed and more room in the closets. She took with her, all her possessions and some things whose ownership was never clearly defined. I could use the discussion of those things as an excuse to demand a meeting and a proper end to what we used to have but that would be unacceptable. Words would be exchanged that would leave a bad taste all around and it is possible that the end of that next meting would leave behind enough residue to require at least one more encounter to clear it all up.

I cannot risk it. I carry enough residue with me as it is. I cannot risk adding to my stash when I only want to be rid of it all. I can wish she hadn’t stolen into the night like a cheap one night stand. But it’s over now and I simply have to figure out the best way to move on.

 

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