'Why am I so nice and accepting of this? I can't get mad and call you out for what you are. Anyone else would have discarded you. Not me. You still have a grasp over me and I am unable to diminish you.'
She got in and made her way to the couch. She was quiet. Didn't say a word, just smiled. He smiled back and poured himself a glass of wine. He didn't offer anything to her.
'No matter what happened, no matter what will happen , even if we never see each other again (and I am not even hoping) I still wish nothing but the best to you. I care enough and I hope one day you will manage to help yourself and fight your demons. I want you to be happy. I value you and wish you could see what I see.'
They sat next to each other. She went first. Talked and talked for minutes. Matt listened. He observed her lips and eyes as they wandered around the room unable to rest on his face. For the first time she was awkward around him. Guilty of what was happening. Matt sipped his wine.
'I find myself wondering of the real reason I believe in you. Is it denial? Am I overcompensating for the pain and rejection your offered. By keeping you on top I tell myself that it was all worth it. If I feel that way it must be true.'
He walks away as she continues talking. He listens no more. He can't. He was expecting this. The words that come out of her mouth has seen them coming.
'Or maybe I am weak and can't bare to be mean about someone. I can't say things as they are but choose to disguise them. I am proving again to be victim of my need to please and be liked by everyone.'
She is finally looking at him as he stands in front of her. She is out of words and breath. She was 'running' to finish her speech. No one is talking. She looks around for something. Nothing. It's Matt's turn.
'Maybe I am just emotional and I love to over dramatize situations. And what a perfect one that is. Me rejected, she a mess, me holding a candle to her memory. A boy wishing nothing but the best to the girl that broke his heart. I do love drama.'
He is mumbling. He hesitates to say what he has planned for so long. But he keeps on . His voice rises. He is certain now. He drinks wine and starts walking up and down. From time to time stops and fixes his eyes to hers. He has removed any emotion from his words. It's all planned and carefully executed. Only logic.
'In the end it might just be the way I feel. I can't help myself. All these that form me, form my attitude to this situation. I am who I am, I feel how I feel, she is who she is, thing are the way they are, I see them the way I see them and no matter how much I analyze them nothing will change.'
Matt is done. They sit quietly next to each other. She is looking at him but he is staring at the table in front of them. Without even thinking he picks up her gloves and tries to wear one. She mimics him. Makes a joke about the size of his hands. They laugh. He gives her the glove back and walks to the door. She follows him, slowly, but with confidence. This time was the last one.