Eyes

When I would look into his eyes and he would look away, I always thought it was just because he was shy, or possibly because I was his first true love.  I never in a million years would have imagined that it was because our whole relationship was a lie.  I loved him so much.  I just assumed that he loved me that much, too.  His words said it all the time, even if his eyes didn't.  I should have known it was too good to be true.

We met in college, in a study group.  I was actually dating his roommate at the time, but I never expected that to go much of anywhere.  I was young and still figuring out what I wanted.  I liked his roommate because he was outgoing and fun.  I liked him because he was quiet and thoughtful.  Back then, he would look at me, when he thought I wasn't looking back.  Whenever he noticed that I had noticed, he would immediately look away.  If he had looked back again after that, he would have seen me smile.

He was shy; that part was not a lie.  At least I don't think it was.  I was sure he wanted to ask me out, but he never did, even months after his roommate and I broke up.  It was almost summer before I finally asked him if he'd like to go out on a date.  He just said, "If you'd like to."  That was the beginning of the end.

It took some time for him to come out of his shell, but it turned out he was actually pretty funny, and really smart.  I already knew he was smart.  He was the top kid in our class.  Later on, I asked him on more than one occasion why he settled for a crap school like the one we were going to.  He told me I shouldn't call it that and if it was a crap school for him it was a crap school for me to.  I told him that we both knew that wasn't true, he was capable of way more than I was.  He tried to protest, but he couldn't, not really.  He was smarter than me.  We both knew it.

I was the social one, though.  I was the one with the people skills.  I thought he was lacking in that area.  I tried to help him.  I'm not always sure he totally appreciated it.  It's very possible that in trying to help him, I drove him further away.

I was pretty.  I think that's the main thing that drew him to me.  He didn't know me that well when I first caught him looking at me.  He knew me really well by the time he stopped looking.

If I look back, I'm sure I should have seen it all coming.  He was smart, but he wasn't the boyfriend I wanted him to be.  He wasn't what I needed him to be.  Sometimes, I think he was too smart.

He never demanded anything of me.  He was always kind.  It wasn't about that.  It was simply that he didn't love me.  He wanted to be with me, be my friend, support me.  He was always telling me to think more of myself, to take what I deserved, to act the way I talked.  I think I was more like a student to him than a lover.  He never even asked to kiss me.  I kissed him.  He never even asked to stay over.  I invited him in.  I loved him so much, and now I don't even know why.

Most of what I say doesn't make sense.  That happens at the end, when things have unraveled.  I should have known before that he never really loved me.  It shouldn't have taken him telling me for me to realize it.  It sucks that when I finally got through to him, when I finally convinced him to be more open and vocal about his feelings, that was what came out.  In my success, I lost him.  Part of me wishes I had never succeeded.

One good thing came from all of this, though.  I realized that I don't need him.  I don't need anyone.  I am smart enough.  I am strong enough.  I can make it on my own.  When I look in the mirror, I see fire in my own eyes, but it isn't hatred or anger.  I think if I ever run into him again, I'll thank him.  I'll thank him for resisting me for so long, but in the end showing me that he didn't complete me.  I could never hate him, though.  I think I'll always love him.  Even though he didn't love me.

There was just something about him, when I did manage to look into his eyes, something that said there was more to him, that he knew something I didn't.  Maybe it was the fact that he didn't love me.  Maybe it was something I'll never know.  There's no point in wondering now.  We're through, and it's time for me to move on with my life.

--------

I hate that we're through.  I hate that it's over.  I would give anything to go back to how it was.  Well, anything except sacrificing who she could be.  That's why it's over:  because I didn't want to sacrifice who she could be.

She cared so much.  She cared too much.  She cared too much about me.  When she looked at me, I saw in her eyes how much she thought she needed me.  I felt in my soul that she didn't need me at all.  As long as I was around, she would always compare herself to me.  She would always think she was smarter than me.  She would always be wrong.

I loved her so much.  That was why I had to finally tell her that I didn't.

I had to let her go.

I hope she never understands what I've done.  I hope she can close her eyes and remain blind to this one thing so that her eyes can be open to so much else.

She's better off without me.  She's strong.  She wouldn't have realized that with me around.  She thought her only strength was in helping me.  She's strong for herself.  I see it in her eyes.  Without me, she truly has the potential to change the world.

Someday, their eyes will be on her, and I'll just be a memory, if even that.  I'll fade.  I have to.  We'll go back to the days where I see her and she doesn't see me.  And I won't have to look away to see her smile.