Merry Christmas

Maybe that was what I liked most about him, the fact that we never talked about anything serious.

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What would we do if we got married? Skim over difficult topics with laughter and smiles? What about our futures, our children? Is it possible for us to live forever like this?

I sat in the café, fumbling with my phone in my hands. The sound of the bell which signaled an incoming customer startled me and I looked towards the door. There he was, slowing walking over to where I was. I wonder if he knew what I was going to say.

“Hey princess,” he said, always the same line each time. He smiled, showing me his perfectly white teeth. He really was a prince, with his beautiful features.

“Hey,” I responded. He must have sensed something from the flat tone in my voice, because he uncomfortably sat down. I massaged my knuckles to keep them from shaking. Why is this so damn hard?

“Was there something you wanted to talk about?” he asked. He said it so lightly, as if we had no problems in the world. What was I suppose to say to this?

‘Yes, I wish you would stop acting as if everything was perfect. I still love you, but we can’t do this.’ I wanted to say that, but even if I did, nothing would change. Isn’t it best for us to part?

“I—“ The words wouldn’t come out of my mouth. I wonder how he would react, how he would feel to what I wanted to say. I wonder if he even understands what’s going on right now.

“Yes?” he questioned, like a naïve child.

“Have you…ever thought of marriage?” I asked, not exactly what I had in mind. There was an awkward silence before he let out a little chuckle.

“Of course, haven’t we discussed this? We’re going to buy a little cottage with a cute little fence and a dog,” he said, reminding me of one of our little fantasies which would never happen.

“You’re not being serious.” My voice was harsh and stern, which took him back by surprise.

“Of course I am,” he said, a bit flustered. I rubbed my head, talking to him was giving me a bit of a headache.

“I—I can’t do this anymore,” I muttered.

“What are you talking about?” I looked up into his eyes; there was genuine hurt in them. For some reason, I wanted to apologize and take back my words. I wanted to tell him I loved him and give him a light kiss, but I stopped.

“This. Us. Being together.” I must have sounded angry because he seemed to have gotten the point. I don’t know why, but I expected him to jump up out of his chair. To tell me that I was wrong and that we could work things out. That we can still continue on this fairy tale as if nothing happened.

He didn’t do any of those things. Instead, he stood up quietly out of his chair and walked out the door. Again, I felt the same urge I felt earlier. The urge to jump out of my chair and dash after him, to latch into his arm and beg him not to leave, but I didn’t move. I just waited as he slowly exited the café without giving me a second glance, and I knew it was over.

I waited a good five minutes because following his lead out the door. I couldn’t feel anything at all, no tears or happiness. I just felt a slight emptiness in my heart. I must have been a daze, standing there and staring at the sidewalk.

“Hey!” I looked up. I could see Michael’s face smiling at me. This was Michael: he was not a prince, or a knight. He was just a regular guy. I guess all the emotion just surged up and the tears came out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, wrapping his arms around me. I wanted to shake my head and tell him no, because if we did then our happiness would be broken. But Michael wasn’t him, because Michael was real.

I looked up at his face. Maybe fairytale love wasn’t real, but true love was. And I’ll find it.