See John write

Step #8

10. Pretending not to care

As things started to go bad, after so much of my neglect, Jenny began to change. She made new friends, friends I didn’t know. I’d come home and she wouldn’t be there. She would stay out late. She wouldn’t call.

I tried to tell myself it was good. I remember thinking, Maybe she won’t be so needy. … So needy. I had lied to myself. I needed Jenny then. I needed to open my stupid mouth. I needed to show her that the distance between us was killing me. I needed to be jealous, to show everything I was feeling, to be real.

But I didn’t.

Everything I did was a lie. Though the words never came out of my mouth, I said plain and clear. “I don’t care.”

Of all the things I’d done, this was my greatest regret.

I set the pen down and looked at my yellow note pad. The clarity stared me back in the face. I had never laid a hand on Jenny. Not once had I been violent or abusive. But the image of me strangling the life out of our relationship was as real as any moment of my life. I had choked it until it was lifeless, until there was nothing left.

The emptiness of our apartment haunted me. I couldn’t even bring myself to turn on the TV or music. Everything felt lifeless without Jenny.

I fell asleep on the couch with all the lights on.

~~~~~~

When I woke, I realized it was Sunday.

I checked the clock. 8:30 a.m. I knew I needed to clear my head. Awkwardly pushing myself up off the couch, I stretched my arms up over my head. My back was stiff from sleeping on the couch.

As I headed down the hallway, I thought about climbing in a hot shower. But I couldn’t take the silence of the apartment anymore. I went to my closet and pulled out my running shoes.

Ten minutes later, I was on the street. Fifteen minutes later I had a good sweat going. I hadn’t slept well for days. It had been two weeks now since she left. I had tried to call her parents house, to see if they knew where she was. But they said Jenny had asked them not to interfere.

I didn’t know what I could say to her. But I just couldn’t imagine that it was really all over. That it had ended with her simply saying she couldn’t stay with me any more.

I turned on 7th avenue and dodged the delivery guy unloading a bundle of newspapers.

My pace began to slow. It was as if I was carrying a dead elephant on my shoulders. I tried to push through it. I needed to begin thinking clearly. What was I going to do? I couldn’t just go on forever like this. I slowed to a walk. I was having trouble breathing. I gasped for air, bending forward and resting my hands on my knees.

Breathe in, I told myself. Breathe out. In. Out. In.

Then it happened. I smelled the little German bakery. I spun around and there it was. I was at the corner of 7th and Poplar. It was almost more than I could take. It was Sunday morning and I had ended up at our favorite Sunday breakfast place.

My eyes were stinging and I felt for a moment like the whole universe was working against me.

I turned away and headed across the street. I needed to go somewhere—anywhere—else.

But when I heard the little bell on the bakery door ring, I turned.

There standing in the doorway was Jenny. She was holding a small white paper bag in her hand.

At first, I looked away. It had to be my imagination. I glanced back. Jenny tipped her head to the side. Her eyes looked swollen and tired, but she smiled.

I felt frozen.

“Hi,” Jenny called out across the nearly empty street.

“Hi,” I answered as I hesitantly started across the street.

“I was really hoping you’d come by this way,” she said as she held up the little bag. “I got your favorite.”

“You did?” I said as I reached the sidewalk.

Jenny nodded and my heart began to race.

“You remembered?”

“I’ve remembered a lot of things … a lot of things.”

I strode up to her and threw my arms around her. She threw her arms around me too.

For a moment, I was afraid to speak, afraid to break the spell. But then I thought about my list. I had let too many moments pass when I let silence speak for me. I leaned back and looked into Jenny’s beautiful eyes.

“I was so afraid that I’d never get a chance to show you. I should never have let anything come between us. I’ve been so lost, so stupid. You are everything to me. I will never let you doubt—”

Jenny gently raised her hand to my lips. She spoke softly. “I couldn’t get out of my head the look on your face when you pulled out those aquarium tickets. And I woke up this morning with the most intense craving for German pastries.”

“I do love a good German pastry,” I said with a smile.

Jenny leaned into me and her lips met mine. I slipped my hand up into her long dark hair and she pulled me tighter.

We were interrupted by the sound of the little bell on the bakery door. Embarrassed, we looked up to see a white-haired woman trying to exit the shop.

“Sorry,” I said as we stepped to the side.

“My goodness,” the old woman said with a huff as she rushed by.

Jenny and I looked at each other and laughed.