This is very difficult to write. I haven't spoken or written anything about this since it happened and I've aborted and restarted this post more times than I can count. Bear with me if it doesn't come across as some of my best writing.
Becky and I met through a mutual friend at a Holloween party (I was a bottle of bourbon, she was a martini - we hit it right off). I fell in love with her straight away. Love at first site and all of that romantic crap. It was overpowering for me as I hadn't ever been in a relationship where I cared so much for another person. Where I cared more for that other person than I cared for myself.
I panicked. I cheated. In my twisted subconcious I guess I decided that I would destroy the relationship before it was destroyed some other way - because nothing this good was possible and it was inevitable that it had to get messed up eventually and at least this way I was in control.
Becky found out. She broke up with me. I was crushed. Totally devastated. You know how they say that you don't know what you've got till it's gone? Imagine how much worse that is when you actually do know what you've got and you are the one who throws it away.
I begged and pleaded. I tried to explain my fucked up thinking and what I had done (and why). She wouldn't listen. Wouldn't even give me the time of day. I kept at it. I was relentless. I sent her flowers, candy, jewelry, you name it. She sent it all back. I wrote her poems, stories, left messages on her voice mail and answering machine. With each thing I sent I asked only for one thing - to see her one more time so I could set things right between us.
After almost 6 months of this harassment and stalking (I didn't think of it that way at the time but I've come to realize that this is what I had been doing) she agreed to meet with me. We met at the Skylon Tower in Niagara Falls, Canada. The restaurant at the top spins around. Very romantic, very expensive, the first place I had taken her for an actual date.
She was already seated when I got there (and I got there early, too) and I just had to stand there and stare at her for what seemed an eternity. She was so beautiful and so sad. Finally the "harumphs" of the maitre'd broke through my reverie and he escorted me to the table. Instead of sitting down I went down on my knees next to her, took her hand in mine and just said "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
She looked at me for a heartache of seconds and then her eyes filled up and she started to cry. Deep, racking sobs. She pulled me to her and hugged me so hard I couldn't breath. I hugged her back just as hard and I'm not embarassed at all to say I was crying just as hard. She let go and grabbed my face and brought me up for the fiercest, most passionate kiss we had ever shared.
She broke from the kiss, stood up abruptly, said "Fuck this" (Becky was a bit...direct at times) and took my hand to lead me out of the restaurant. We got into the elevator and she gave the three other would-be passengers such a look that they all decided to wait for the next car. As soon as the doors closed she attacked me like a feral rutting beast. We made furious love as the glass walled elevator slowly decended the side of the Skylon.
We had barely gotten our clothes back in place when the doors opened - not that either of us would have given a shit at that point. We walked hand in hand to the Red Coach Inn (that was "our place" in Niagara Falls) without saying a word. In fact, I don't think either of us said anything until the next morning.
That was the most glorious morning of my life. I woke up with the warmth of Becky in my arms, the musky scent of our love making permeating the room, the feel of her hair against my cheek. And even in her sleep she had the bost beautiful smile on her face. A smile of perfect happiness.
I laid there holding her until she woke up, stretching like a cat and arching her back, which led to predictable results that lasted most of the rest of the morning. When we were both lying there in a tangle, totally sated and physically exhausted she turned to me and became totally serious. She said "Don't ever do that to me again. If you do that to me again it will kill me." I assured her I would never stray again. I started to explain my twisted reasoning and why it had happened - the stuff that I'd been trying to explain for the past 6 months - but she interrupted me. "It doesn't matter why, Chuck" she said "It doesn't matter why you did it. It won't matter why if you do it again. Just tell me that you understand that if you do it again I will die."
We had two blissful years after that. Oh, don't get me wrong - we had disagreements, arguments and fights just like any other couple. But even in the middle of a fight we were both secure that it was just a fight - that the important thing was that we were together and would be for all time. But for all time turned out to be just those two years.
Sorry, I'm done now. That's it, BQ. That's the end of it from me. Just stop now, okay?
Posted by Charles at October 29, 2003 12:39 PM