*** for the beautiful women out there. we share tears and tea. you know who you are***
3 days after his complete meltdown at the "Lonely Hearts" meeting, Aidan felt no better. He hadn't showered in over a week, his sweat pants so filthy and the sofa had indents so deep one would think he was actually built into the couch. His stereo was playing a depressing song; it was on a loop - constantly on, constantly repeating. Almost as though he wanted to remain miserable, almost as though he didn't want to move on. Who would want to, really, after having your heart ripped out and shred to bits?
Was he expected to move on? Could he not just remain in the foetal position, going over the recent events, recalling the sight of his castle made of sand being washed away? What did the world want him to do? She was gone. There was nothing that could be done. He kept wishing he could have one more day, one more chance, one more... anything. She had walked out of the door and he hadn't stopped her, like a fool he thought love was enough.
It was never enough for her, not for one second was love enough for her. She was something else, not like any woman he had ever known. In his eyes, she was insanely beautiful, the all-encompassing beauty which dictated the rise and fall of nations, where epic wars were waged, battles won and lost. What could he have done to make her stay, to make her believe in him, to show her he was strong enough to be there for her? She didn't want him to coddle her, to check in with her, to show her love and affection the way he was raised to show it. She wanted someone to stand with her, someone who did not need propping, prompting, pride-stroking. She wanted a man. She was in no way unreasonable - she wasn't expecting a knight in shining armour. She wanted a man who was strong.
"Mentally, spiritually, emotionally. I want a man who can stand on his own two feet. A man who knows who he really is. No confusion, no inner turmoil, no doubts. A man so sure and so strong, that I know I can count on him to stand strong when I need to borrow strength, a man who will fight with me, who will fight for me. A man I can give everything to," were her words. Similar to the cheesy country song playing on his stereo, those words were repeating in a loop.
In the inner recesses of Aidan's mind, he knew he was not half the man she had pictured. She loved him - he was sure of it. He had felt it in the warmth of her body at night, had seen it in her eyes when she smiled at him, heard it when she called his name. For him, it was enough. To have a woman so beautiful, even with all her imperfections, love him sincerely was more than he could have ever wished for. Clearly, he hadn't realised it was never enough for her.
Shifting on the couch, searching but not quite finding the one perfect place to rest his head, tears ran down his face as the demon of realisation that he has lost the greatest thing that has ever happened to him hit him. Again and again and again.
