Je T’aime

“I dreamt of a fever
one that would cure me of this cold, winter-set heart
With heat to melt these frozen tears burned with reasons as to carry on”

-Bright Eyes, “If Winter Ends”

I have to finish this paper for class, but I can’t concentrate because I’m thinking about the girl I inexplicably fell in love with this year; the one who I seem to keep getting close to and then I mess something up. Every time I get to a point in the relationship, I say something wrong or do something wrong and we go back to square one and I have to start all over again.

So, the other week we are getting pretty close. We’re sleeping together (read: sleeping in the same bed with a little bit of cuddling). Everything is going well, and I am thoroughly enjoying myself being around her. Then she goes home for a weekend for her 21st birthday, fucks some guy, and decides she values her independence too much to have a relationship. This totally blew me away. Shattered every preconception I had of her. Now I hate her.

This paper is a lost cause. I go to sleep.

* * *

It’s freezing, but I have to stand outside, because I have to smoke. She could never stand me smoking.

I look out at the snow that covers the campus. It’s got to be about six inches deep, enough to keep us from class. There are no footprints in it; everyone has opted to stay in their rooms for the morning. Of course, I am out here smoking in the sub-zero temperature. It’s funny; I always used to ridicule smokers for going to such lengths just to get some nicotine.

I look out at the snow, wishing I hadn’t brought this up to myself. Then I notice something. I’m not sure if I see it at first, but then it happens again. Small red dots are appearing in the snow. I look into the sky to see if they are coming from anywhere, but I can’t see anything up there. I look back down, and the red spots are everywhere in the snow. I really have no idea what is going on, but I seem strangely calm. I look around, seeing if there is anyone else out here to witness this, but I am the only one.

Then something else starts to happen. The red spots turn black, and begin to seep into the surrounding white snow. Within a matter of seconds, everything is black. There is no whiteness left, except in the sky. My mind starts to spin…am I seeing things? What the hell is going on here? All the snow is pitch black, how do I explain this? Did I miss something that happened? I close my eyes, rub them a little, and open them.

Everything is back to normal.

And she is standing in front of me, at the bottom of the steps.

I take a drag on my cigarette, but I had let it sit there for so long that it has burned down to the filter and I get a lungful of burning cotton. It’s not pleasant, and I cough harshly while she walks up the steps, stops in front of me, and waits.

“We need to talk,” she says.

“Okay,” I say.

We walk back into my building and down to the first floor. I unlock my room and open it, letting her walk in before me. The room seems a little unfamiliar to me, but it is mine nonetheless. She sits on my bed and waits for me to get comfortable in my computer chair before she says anything.

“I made a mistake,” is how she begins. I just sit and let her talk, because I know that’s what she likes. “I’ve been thinking the last few days, since you haven’t been around. I’ve missed you, and I think I’m ready for a relationship.”

I’m ecstatic, but I don’t want to show it. “Are you sure about this?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says. “Very sure. It just hasn’t been the same without you around…”

We’re lying in her bed now. Spooning. I have my arm around her waist, and she has her fingers intertwined with mine. I lie there for a few minutes, just happy to be there. I think she might be asleep, but then she turns over and looks me in the eye. “Je t’aime,” she says. “Je t’adore.”

“I didn’t know you knew French,” I tell her.

“Of course I do. You do, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I tell her.

Now I am in the cafeteria. We are in the cafeteria. I have to get used to referring to us as a “we.” I get my food and go to sit by myself. I notice a table with two of my friends, Ken and William, and Will gets up and comes over to me.

“Hey man,” he says. “Why don’t you come sit with us?”

“Sorry dude,” I tell him. “I gotta eat with Elizabeth.”

“Damn. Alright, see ya later.” He walks away, not very happy with me. But what do I care? I’m happy with Liz. Besides, she doesn’t like them much. It’s awkward enough juggling time between the two groups (even though my time with Liz is getting more and more, and the time with them less and less)…I don’t want to have to deal with putting the two together.

Liz and I are jogging up a paved hill lined on either side with trees. It seems pretty hard for me to get up it, but maybe that’s just because I’m a smoker. She starts to pull ahead of me, so I try to yell at her to slow down, but I’m breathing so hard I can’t, and then I start to cough. One of those nice, full smoker’s coughs. I continue chasing her, though, because I don’t want to be by myself out here. Even if she wants to keep going, I want to follow her. She doesn’t look back, and I try my best to keep going, but it’s getting harder and harder.

Then someone jumps out of the trees on our right. I can’t see his face, but from Liz’s reaction, I know she knows him. He grabs her by the arm and starts to pull her toward the trees, while I keep running after her. I get closer and closer, and I can see that he’s not really dragging her, just leading her. There’s a smile on her face, and I stop jogging for the moment. She disappears somewhere, but I keep running. I keep running, towards her and I don’t stop, even though I seem to be getting nowhere.

We’re sitting in the cafeteria again, across from each other. We don’t talk much, and we find it hard to look at each other.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I ask her.

“You’re doing it to yourself.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask.

“Open your eyes,” she tells me. “Wake up.”

This part is fuzzy, but I remember a little bit of it. I remember us making up, and everything being happy. I remember her saying she got scared of the relationship thing, but then she realized that it was best for both of us. I remember us doing stupid relationship things like running through fields and smelling flowers. All those things you see on television, but never quite do. I remember a good time.

* * *

After class, the class in which I didn’t turn in my paper, I decide to go over to her room. Class was a bitch, the teacher tried to put me on a guilt-trip for not turning in the paper, and then kept calling on me to answer questions about a poem I hadn’t read. It’s gonna be great to get to see Elizabeth.

I walk up to her room and knock on the door. She answers, and says, “Hey.”

“It’s been such a long day, it’s great to finally see you,” I tell her with a sigh of relief. I go to kiss her, but she backs away.

“What the hell are you doing?” She asks.

“What do you mean?” I ask back.

“Did you just try to kiss me?”

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I already told you that I didn’t want a relationship.”

“But I thought we made up,” I said. “I thought you said you wanted one. Remember? Je t’aime. Je t’adore.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about it. Is that French or something?”

“Yes,” I say. “Don’t you know French?”

“No.”

“But you said those things,” I tell her. “When we were laying in your bed. The other night.”

“Listen,” she says. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, and I think you don’t either. I told you I didn’t want to go out with you, and you need to realize that. Now I have homework to do, so I think you should leave.”

I stand there as she closes the door. What the hell is going on? I think about knocking again, but then think better of it. What is she doing? What am I doing?

An overwhelming sense of hate comes over me. I can’t believe she lead me on like that. I can’t believe she lied to me, slept in the same bed with me, kissed me, and is now pretending it never even happened. I can’t believe I fell for it, fell for everything. I walk back to my room, thinking about the entire course of events. It was too good to be true, I realize. I should have figured something was up, I should have figured that bitch would do something like this. I get back to my room and slam my fists on top of my dresser once, twice…three, four times. I yell with every impact.