“How long has it been?”
“How long has it been?”
Taren shook her head, breaking out of her daydream. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
Kaylin rolled her eyes. “Yeah, twice. I asked you how long it’s been.”
“Since Scott left.”
“It’s been a little over a year,” replied Taren. “Why?”
“No reason,” said Kaylin. She looked at Taren for a moment before adding “a lot could happen in a year.”
“What’s your point?” asked Taren. She picked up the pen lying on the table and began to doodle on a drawing pad. It was her way of avoiding eye contact. She knew where Kaylin was headed.
“You need to get over him,” Kaylin stated bluntly.
“That’s easy for you to say. Besides, I am over him. I’ve just been in a quiet mood lately.”
“No, you’re dwelling,” pressed Kaylin.
“Maybe I like to dwell,” replied Taren flippantly.
“I know you do, because it’s your way of hiding.”
“From who?” asked Taren, finally looking up.
“From yourself,” said Kaylin.
Taren frowned at her friend. “That’s dumb. You can’t hide from yourself.” Kaylin gave her The Look, and Taren quickly went back to doodling. If there was one person she couldn’t hide from, it was Kaylin. Kaylin was right, and they both knew it. After a few minutes, Kaylin spoke up.
“There’s a faster way, you know,” she said.
Taren glanced up, eyeing Kaylin curiously. “What do you mean?”
“The fastest way to get over someone is to meet someone else,” Kaylin suggested. Taren rolled her eyes.
“You know I’m not like that,” said Taren. “Besides – ” Taren stopped mid-sentence as her thoughts took her to someone else.
“Besides?” prodded Kaylin.
Taren smiled ruefully. “Nothing. I just open myself up to more heartache.”
Kaylin eyed her friend suspiciously. “There’s more you’re not telling me.”
Taren shrugged. “There was this guy. We became friends. But I… I started liking him too much.”
“And there’s something wrong with that?” asked Kaylin.
“There is if he doesn’t like you back,” said Taren softly. She sighed and continued. “You know how I am. I have this habit of taking things people say to heart. And then I realize they don’t mean anything behind what they say, and I get embarrassed. But by that time, I’m in too deep to not get hurt, I realize I’ve made a fool of myself, and I just want to disappear.”
“That’s why you were dwelling,” Kaylin said.
“Basically,” replied Taren. “I take out the old, previous pain and I hide behind it. As long as I absorb myself in what’s familiar, I don’t feel anything else. Old pain’s better than new pain, I guess.”
Both women sat quietly, each mulling over their conversation. Finally, Kaylin broke the silence.
“But you liked someone again,” she said.
“Yeah, and look where it got me. I’m not going there again. End of story.”
“No, it’s not ‘end of story.’ That’s just it,” said Kaylin.
“What’s ‘just it’?” asked Taren, confused.
“Your life is a book, Taren. Scott was a chapter. This other guy, a chapter. Will they be in future chapters? I don’t know. But the point is, you keep turning the pages. Fill them up. Write your story.”
“But I don’t know what to write,” protested Taren.
Kaylin smiled. “You don’t have to know what to write. As long as you leave yourself open, the story will write itself.”
Kaylin got up and hugged her friend. “I have to go,” she said. “Stop dwelling, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’m not making any promises,” said Taren defiantly. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.” She watched Kaylin leave, and stared absently at the front door, lost in thought. She thought about Scott, and wondered if she still loved him, or if she was simply hiding behind him. Was she still holding onto him, or was she trying to just hold onto love? She picked up her pen again and began writing.
I can’t say goodbye to you
you haven’t left at all.
you’re still a part of me
every second of my day. . .
But when you walked out that door
you ended that chapter
of my life.
the book will never be complete.
there are too many blank pages;
blank pages filled to bursting
with the absence of your love.
With a heavy sigh, Taren got up from the table. ‘Maybe Kaylin was right,’ she thought to herself. She knew Scott would always have a place in her heart, just as she knew it was time to finally say goodbye. Grabbing her car keys, she headed outside. She had a story to write.
(c) Dahlia Ramone: December, 2008
This was written for Blogophilia Topic: There is a Faster Way
(1) Incorporate a poem you wrote
(2) Mention an embarrassing habit you personally have