Realizations
He grabbed for her arm, but she dodged his advance. He caught the end of her sleeve, holding on like Rose first held onto Jack in the cold-ridden waters in Titanic. But much like the boat, everything was sinking.
“Get away from me John,” she screamed. “You’re just like the rest of them.” Her face changed, she was no longer blinded by her love for him. She looked at him, the love slipping from her eyes, replaced by a raging anger and hurt. “Yasmine, wait. Let me explain.” He searched for the words that would make this better, make her understand. But no words came to mind.
She stopped in front of him, not sure if she should actually hear what this sad excuse of man had to say. She had loved him with all her heart, but all he did was show her that she wasn't worthy of the love she thought she was. She had sacrificed everything for him and all he gave her was a broken heart and the knife he used to stab her in the back. She looked in his eyes, knowing that it would be the last time she would do so.
“Explain John. Explain to me why she was better than me?” He stood in his place, his feet immovable. “Explain to me how you could make my whole world come crumbling down in one night.” Her eyes began to water again, but she refused to cry in front of him. He didn't deserve to see her cry, he hadn’t thought of her at all when he cheated. She pushed his arm off her sleeve, not wanting the connection to last any longer. Those hands had loved someone else, they had touched someone else, and worst of all, they had pleasured someone else.
She felt for the necklace he had gave her, clawed at it like it was something choking her, threatening her last breath. In one motion, she ripped it off and threw it at him. “Give it to her!” she exclaimed. He was still unspoken, acting as if he was a mute child. When she threw the necklace at him, he didn't even flinch. He let it fall to the ground, trying in his mind to take back the last 24 hours. He had no excuse, he had no reasoning for everything that happened. There was no point and saying to her, “she understood me and wanted to listen to me.” He knew what that would do to Yasmine and he knew there was nothing that could be said or done to take back the unforgivable.
He dropped his hands to his side, searching for the love her eyes. He hoped that time would heal everything, that she would ultimately understand and forgive him. But how could she understand something that he himself didn't even understand? Yasmine was right; he was just like the rest of them. He let lust and desires trump the love he had for her.
The story was simple. Yasmine and him had been fighting a lot; normally, he would go home, watch a movie or play some video games, cool off and call her in the morning. But something was different in their fight, something just didn't feel right. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but their love felt different from the first year they started dating. So, he called up his friend Brody. Brody was the epitome of douchey best friend. They had grown up together and that's what kept their friendship so solid. John knew his best friend was a jerk, a player, a douche. But, the point was, Brody was always there when he needed him.
Brody came over, already 3 shots deep in vodka. His breath wreaking of an old Irish pub. John explained the fight, trying every so often to keep Brody’s attention. “Man, forget her. She’ll get over it. Let’s go party and find us a honey.” That was Brody’s favorite phrase, “let’s find us a honey.” Brody lived for the days that John would be single again, so they could get ‘honeys’ together. After some protest, John agreed to go partying with him, just to be the designated driver. He drove out about 2 miles down to a party on Rover Street. The parties on Rover Street were always one cry away from being shut down. They were the kind of parties you see in movies where everyone is drunk, everyone is making out, and no one knows where they are the next morning. Why John was there, he had no clue…
Maybe he was there to let off some steam, maybe he was there because he was just like Brody in one way or another. When he walked inside, he saw the beer pong tables, the spilt beer dripping ever so slightly onto the white tiled kitchen. By the end of the night, he had played at least 10 games. He was the beer pong champion and he couldn't lose. But the more games he played, the more drinks he drank. After a while, his shots were no longer going in; his vision not as clear as it was when he first arrived. Finally, he lost; so he picked up the last 2 beers on the table and chugged them. He stumbled into the living room, finding Brody making out with one of the neighborhood ‘sluts.’ He sat down dramatically next to them, making sure that he made his presence known. “Hey bro,” he said, getting close enough so Brody could hear him over the loud trance music.
Brody stopped sucking face for a quick moment, just giving John the, “get the hell out of here look.” John got the hint, but he wanted to go home now. He had his fun and it was time to get back home, he had to get up early to meet Yasmine at her house to help her study. Even though they were mad at each other, he didn't want to ditch out on the plans they had. “Brody, I’m out. I need to get…” Before he could finish his sentence, a girl he had never seen before sat down next him. Her hazel eyes and long brown hair caught his eye. Brody continued making out with Miss Promiscuous, ignoring John’s words of departure.
“Hey,” she said. A smile slipped across her face, daring him to respond back. “Hey,” he answered back, grabbing at the keys in his pocket as he spoke. “Brody, like I was saying, I’m heading out.” Brody ceased his lip lock to look at him. “Dude, we both know you was drinking, stop the act. You’re staying till you sober up.” John knew he was right, he wasn't the kind of person to drink and drive and tonight wasn't the night he was going to start.
The girl next to John kept staring his way. After a while of uncomfortable staring, John got back up and saw one of his old friends chilling with some people in the back room. “JOHN!” the kid screamed. “Shaun!” John said in mock excitement. Shaun pulled up a chair and told John to sit. He poured him a shot and they all clinked to who knows what celebration. Shots kept getting poured and before John knew it, the girl was in the room, drinking shot for shot with them. One second she was sitting in the chair across from them, next minute she was sitting in his lap.
“JOHN! JOHN! I’m talking to you!” Yasmine’s voice made him jump out of last nights events. “Yasmine…” he managed to say. She looked up at him, her eyes glistening, but not the way they used to glisten in that familiar light. They glistened with tears, threatening to leak out her eyes like the beer dripping off the table the night before. The irony struck him and he closed his eyes and looked away. He couldn't stand to see her hurt anymore. He knew that he had to hurt her one last time. He knew that the pain he had caused her was not repairable.
“Yasmine… I… I’m,” he hesitated. He grabbed the thrown necklace off the floor and placed it in his pocket He knew that after he said the truth, she would run him out of her room and never talk to him again. After being in front of her at this very moment, he understood what was different this time... It took hurting his best friend for him to finally figure it all out.
He finally spoke, letting her hear the realization that just struck him. He spoke the words aloud, both a sad recognition for himself and for her. “Yasmine. I’m not in love with you anymore.”
