(Cliff's Side of Story now)
There, I said it. I told her everything. Honesty is stupidity. I risked everything by being honest. I risk losing the love of my life, I risk losing Faye.
It is a dice I am willing to roll.
Come what may.
But, it hurts. The telling hurts. The waiting hurts. Sometimes the pain in the heart translated to a tangible ache and I would've thought something is physically not right with my blood pumping machine.
It had been a week since we last met each other, when Faye walked out of my apartment and left me wondering if she heard me when I said 'i love you '. We had not been in any contact.
Every waking moment I think of her. Everytime I picked up the phone, I was hoping to receive a text or anything from her.
And every day I criticize myself for revealing the depths of my soul to her. Was it too much for her to take? Or too soon?
And digging out the past brought back old memories... of the witch bitch, of Bro Nat, and my ex. As Faye described her scars, these are mine. I hated some, cherished some but I accepted them all as part of me.
Is the wretched woman still alive, I wonder? I don't really care, apart than to find comfort in hoping that she is sufferably alive. Will I ever forgive her? There is no need to offer forgiveness to someone who didn't ask for it. But to let it all go and for my own sake, I choose to forget it.
Brother Nat is someone I regard as a friend closer than a blood brother. I did send him a message a few days ago, which is something I would do maybe twice a year, and he responded conversationally.
My ex. Faye doesn't have to know that after I broke up with my ex, we are still good friends. I let go of a lover many years ago, but kept a friend.
These are the past that made Cliff who he is today. And I am aching for Faye to be my present and my future. She matters to me more than I imagine. Somehow, I am not ready if Faye would fade into the background and became another chapter of my life as my ex. A part of me would have died.
So as I am holding my phone now, and like before, I typed a sentence to be sent to Faye. After a minute of deliberation, I delete the whole text and put my phone aside.
As much as every fibre in my body wanted to reach out and contact her, she needs to come to her own terms about me, without me begging or manipulating her thoughts.
Truthfully, I am very scared of losing her.
If I do, I would give up on romantic love, shave my head and commit to a life of celibacy.
Men cry in secret. I believe everyone experience heartache, men included, only they are very good at not displaying melancholy. My sorrow shows when I am alone or when I express it on paper. And it isn't about the past, but about Faye.
I miss her. I even miss the smell of her cigarette, because it means she is near.
I dreamt about her. I dreamt that I tried to find her but she had disappeared with a Korean guy. Another time I dreamt of her with me, naked. An image so blur and fake that I forced myself to wake up instead of dwelling in an illusion.
I feel asleep again, thinking about Faye. And I was elated to see her again.
5-6 lines as usual. Wait, in French? Now that's unusual. And how come there are lines when you are standing right in front of me?
'Thinking of you tous les jours.'
I wanted to believe it.
So we saw each other, smiled and talked. Like old friends do, which was nice and warm. No hugs nor any contacts.
In my dream, I knew that I was dreaming. I decided to try something.
'Faye... I want you back. ' The Cliff in the dream told Faye in the dream, and braced for impact.
Dreams are like, take 2 of a reality. You don't actually have any control of how the situation unfolds. You try say or do something, and the consequence should play out. It's not scripted, as in all actors act according to the script the dreamer wants a story to be. Otherwise dreams will always be sweet. And nightmares exists not.
However, I've been told and agree that dreams also imply the subconscious of a human mind.
I focused on Faye's expression and waited for her response, but everything faded away like the changing of a scene.
And so I woke up. Opening the curtains of my eyes, when clarity of the real human dimension returns, the first thought in my head... what the.. could it be...?
I reached for my phone and saw the notifications : You've got mail!