The Words Better Unspoken
"Hart, why don't you come over here and sit down? There's a lovely view of the stars through the canopy. The shower's about to start."
She looks so beautiful sitting there beneath the trees, her skin glowing a celestial white. That sparkle in her eye shows even brighter now than in the sun, the first thing I noticed when I first looked her in the face.
"What's the matter, Hart? Edgar'll be back soon with the others. I promise you'll have a good time if you just let yourself."
Her visage starts to swirl and meld, then dissipates, leaving only those eyes. The eyes that hold me hostage against my will, preventing me from moving a muscle. The words start to form in my head, beautiful words that explain just how I feel. I try to release them, but her eyes catch me again.
"It's starting," she says.
But I can only stare, the words I mean to say caught at the back of my throat.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing," I say, struggling to get something out. "Just thinking."
"About what?" she asks.
You. I was thinking about you. How I'd like to love you as my own. How great we'd be together. How we are made for each other, and I can't believe how I've made it this long without you. "Nothing in particular."
"Hart, you know that's a load of crap. You tell me you're thinking and then won't tell me what you were thinking. Just tell me. I'd really like to know. If you don't I'll really make an issue out of it."
It's not that I won't tell her, it's just...I can't tell her. What if she laughs at me? What if she tells her boyfriend? Edgar would kick my ass in a heartbeat if he ever found out about what I feel for his girlfriend, and he could do it, too. Plus it would complicate her life. She and Eddy have been dating since high school, and knowing what I feel about her would break up friendships we've had for years now. How can I tell her what I feel when it could hurt her so much? No. Things like this are better left unsaid. But oh how I love her. Why can't she see that? Why do I feel so helpless? "Just forget about it. It really is nothing important."
"Well, O.K." she sighed.
Phew, I'm glad I got out of that one. But there's this longing in my heart to tell her. "Marie."
"Yeah, Hart."
"........."
"What?"
Tell her, you fool! Tell her! "...where is everybody?" Damnit.
"You know they just made a quick run to the store for snacks and to Edgar's house for his telescope and some more blankets. Why don't you just come over here and sit down by me to watch the meteor shower and wait till they come back?" she says.
"Fine," I reply.
Walking toward those eyes that sparkle in the dark, with the trees glaring down on me with a knowledge of the ages and contempt for a mere mortal like myself, I can't help but wonder what they think about this situation. Do they understand the fear of rejection that accompanies the pain of hidden love? I can't help but think that they do, for I hear them laughing at me under their breaths. So, I withdraw even more into a world where nothing can hurt me, yet I can't live here forever because my feelings won't allow it. I emerge form this hidden world only to be hurt by the knowledge that my love probably doesn't love me back. She loves another. Edgar. My best friend since second grade. I just don't understand. But there is one thing I do understand. I love her. What am I doing to myself? Just act natural, stop feeling sorry for myself, and forget about my feelings for a while.
The stars are beautiful. Every now and then a line will streak the sky drawing my attention from the rest of the heavens. Once, it feels like a long time ago, I used to sit here on the grass with a pen and some paper. There I would write letters that would never be sent, poems that would never be read. I would contemplate things that could never be, say things I could never say. The crumpled sheets would scatter on the ground next to me as pages were written and then offered to the heavens, wishes that fell from my hand like the stars from the sky. I would watch the meteor shower and wonder which star would be the next one to blink out, sacrificing itself for these little shows that people watch with regrets. Wishing stars and regrets. They're one in the same. People wouldn't wish for things if they didn't have regrets. Love lost. Love never realized. Things they know they can never have. Mistakes they've made that they can't change now. Wishes are based more on despair than hope, for despair truly is the driving force of life. No one is ever truly happy if they wish upon a falling star, the one that had to die to let the wishers wish.
There I sat, alone, wishing for Marie to love me like I loved her. Pathetic, really. All that time I wasted dreaming, when I could have been out trying to live a normal life. Going to parties where there were other girls, girls that might give me what I gave her. But, that is one thing I can never have back. I can't change the way I feel about her, as long as there are still stars to flicker and fade for the dreamers. No, but I could at least do my best to hide it, to try to hold my tongue and emotions at bay for a little while longer...
"Hey man. I hear gears grinding. Watcha thinkin' 'bout?" says Edgar. I didn’t even hear him coming.
"Nothing!" I scream, feeling the pressure in my jaw as my teeth clench. "Not a damn thing, so why don't you people just leave..." Oh my God! Before I even finish with what I have to say, I realize that there is no way I can explain myself out of this one without ruining the evening. Then I realize that every time I'm around those two I have a bad time, so I feel a little more inclined to try. "I'm sorry. It's just been a stressful day at work, and my head is swimming." At least it's half way true. My head is swimming.
"Sorry man," he says. "I didn't realize..."
I didn't let him finish. "Don't worry man, I shouldn't have bit your head off like that. I just didn't think before I blew up."
Looking around I see all their eyes on me. Their sharp little minds all thinking the same thing, with glances at each other to confirm their suspicions.
"Maybe you just need to sit down."
"Good idea," I reply, in an unnoticeably sarcastic way.
The expected chatter and behind-the-back gossip starts, and I remember a time when I used to care. But not anymore. There is only one thing on my mind...those eyes. Her eyes, unlike the ones drilling into the back of my head, tell me she is somewhere else. Perhaps she is in the past, where people were innocent and life wasn't complicated. Or maybe she has gone into her own little world, where reality is what she wants it to be. Not this harsh realm where the adults are cruel and unforgiving, where life is just too complicated. A safe place where she goes when she can't take the pressure anymore. A world full of childhood memories and dreams that were shattered in this reality, where love that never was...is. Or maybe not. Maybe I am the only one with this world of fantasy and surrealism where I go when I can't handle reality, a place where my wishes come true and my regrets can be erased by sacrificing a piece of the heavens for my own self satisfaction so that I may be happy when I am truly not because I know that I can never have her because she's my best friend's girl though I can't stop thinking about those eyes that sparkle in the moonlight and captivate my very soul. Despite my reflection, I cannot determine where she is. I do know, however, that she is not here though she sits right next to me. So close, yet I cannot be with her. Perhaps if I were there with her she would understand my feelings. But until then I must remain enchanted by the reflection of the heavens so near to the earth.
September 27, 1999
There he was, just standing there with a long look on his face. The sort of pensive look that had an air of sadness that I just couldn't bare to see any more.
"Hart," I said to him. "Why don't you come over here and sit down? There's a lovely view of the stars through the canopy. The shower's about to start."
His face was in the shadow of a tree, but the moon was bright enough that I could see the more prominent features on his face. His eyes, however, were shaded from view, but I knew what was under those shadows. He has these intelligent eyes, the kind that always look intelligent and probing. But for a few years now they have had a sad look to them. They still sparkle with intelligence, but not with life anymore. I couldn't tell if he was looking at me or past me, for his eyes can play that trick on me. I never could tell, still can't. But regardless of what he was doing, I couldn't stand him looking so grim for any longer.
"What's the matter, Hart? Edgar'll be back soon with the others. I promise you'll have a good time if you just let yourself." I really meant it. The only time I have ever seen him act happy was when he was a kid, but all that changed. It happened about the time Edgar and I started dating. (Eddy's a sweetie, by the way. I can't believe what he just bought me. How in the world he got enough to buy me diamond earrings with his paycheck, I just don't know. He's gonna marry me one day, And we're going to have kids. Lots of them. All with the same curly hair and those innocent blue eyes that Edgar has. We're gonna be a magnificent couple, you just wait.) Anyway, Hart just got grim and dark all of a sudden, like he had nothing to live for. I hope he hasn't become depressed. But why would he be depressed? His family life is all right: he's got plenty of friends, practically the perfect life. But all he did was stand there looking past me with glazed-over eyes.
Just then I saw a meteor streak the sky, and I made a wish that Edgar would ask me to marry him. (We've been dating long enough, but 'no.' He wants to wait a while. 'You know, get settled in my career,' he says. Whatever. He's just scared to get married this early, although I don't know why.) I wished on the star, and remembering Hart I said, "It's starting." He just stood there, making me feel uncomfortable in the silence. "What's the matter?" I ask.
"Nothing...just thinking."
"About what?" I say.
"Nothing in particular," he says.
Then, while I tried to get out of him what he was thinking, I made a complete ditz of myself. I get embarrassed just thinking about. A good thing only Hart was there, because the others would have just laughed. Anyway, he wouldn't tell me. Then he started to ask me something, but he ended up covering what he originally had to say with some stupid question. I saw right through him, but I didn't say anything. Not after just making a fool out of myself.
Until Edgar and the others got back we just sat there looking at the falling stars. They were beautiful. Little streaks of light that only happened every so often. Meteor showers are rare occasions, and they are so pretty that I made everyone come to see it. Hart was the only one that didn't seem thrilled that we were all driving up to "watch the shower." (Every guy in our group brought their girlfriend, and visa-versa. Hart was the only one who didn't bring a girl.)
When the others got back with the food, Eddy set up the telescope and laid out some more blankets for everyone. When he asked Hart what was the matter (which was a dumb idea, I thought), Hart just blew up.
He yelled, "I'm not thinking about a damn thing, so why don't you people just leave me alone?" Or something like that. I don't think he finished though, for he was apologizing within seconds. Sometimes I just don't understand Hart, and lately I seems to be that way all the time. He's quiet and grim, constantly, and I haven't seen him smile in a long time. I really hope he isn't getting depressed, but if he is, he should tell us. We would understand, and maybe even some of us could help. At the very least Edgar and I would be able to help, for we've been friends with him forever. There's nothing he can tell the two of us that we couldn't be able to handle. After all, we are friends.
© 1999 thomas busbee