The Third Degree

No, listen. You got it all wrong.

I have never said I loved her. Nor have I affirmed the contrary. Feelings are very fickle things, you are old enough to know.

Yes, there is a definite affection. I do care for her, and enjoy her company. I would have been perfectly happy to spend my life with her, yes. I would have enjoyed being with her through the sun and through the storm.

You get to see her when she smiles, and I do not. You get to see her when she laughs, and I do not. You get to see her when she screams, when she cries, when she sits and stays silent, and I do not. Although you too care for her, you cannot possible comprehend me.

I know it wasn't meant to last. I know, and had accepted that fact before it even started. If we live our lives as falling stars, I just wish the trailing path would have been longer.

I tried to make it easy. For her, for me. There is no point in prolonging the agony. The tears that were not shed must not be. The pain that was repressed will stay hidden. The words of love that were not pronounced will be silent. ... And inside, I will weep, throb and sigh. But she must not know. Pain, unlike love, should never be shared.

And please, please go tell him. He doesn't seem to see anymore what treasure he has in front of him. I can understand he was hurt. But as badly as he was, it cannot be compared to her sufferance. Tell him to look at her eyes, those beautiful eyes that shine for him. Tell him to look at her trembling lips, waiting. Ask him if those, if she's not worth living for. If he says no, he is not a man. If he dares refuse her, if he dares abandon her, he is not a man. She looks up to him, in love and admiration. How can you hold such a flower and decide to crush her?...

Don't ask me to meet him. I would call him an arrogant, spoiled brat. Unless he makes it better.

And don't tell her anything. Don't share the pain. I'll talk to her before the end, before death does us part.

Excerpt from Conversations of the Third Degree.