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I Met Him For The Last Time
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I Met Him For The Last Time
Narrative monologue. I think the title speaks for itself.
[1,096 words]
[August 2006]
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I Met Him For The Last Time

I met him for the last time.

Why did I meet him? Coz we are best friends. Sorry, amend that. Coz I am his best friend. Actually I love him…more than a friend of course. I love him the way only a woman can love a man. The women reading this can understand. The men I excuse you.

Well I love him. I love him for a very long time now. So long that I have forgotten what it is to love another. Feeling sorry for me? No, don't be. Unrequited love makes for good writing material…I should know.

I met him for the last time. He wanted to meet me. Pour out his heart to me…no no - don't misunderstand me. He wanted to talk to me at length, so could we meet? I said ok. Of course one part of me was all excited about meeting him. I mean every girl wants to be with the guy that she loves…so what if you're only his best friend.

They say man and woman cannot be best friends unless they consciously or unconsciously remove the sexual element between their relationship. He did the removing. Not that I am bad looking mind you or maybe I am to him (shrug). He kinda thinks of me as an asexual being. To him I am just a very intelligent person. Man! I'd trade my brain for sex appeal any day.

I kinda go into short-circuit mode when I'm around him, my synapses start firing erratically and nonsensically. But this meeting, I behaved myself in his presence. The cool, calm, collected Lady was I. Believe me.

He takes me to this place called H_____. A more romantic setting is hard to find. I should've been thrilled. I mean what more could a girl ask for…candlelight dinner, the man you love - "The time, the place and the loved one all together". It should've been perfect. If only he loved me back.

Why am I writing this? This is a catharsis. I hope to read these outpourings again only years later when hopefully I shall be able to read it all and laugh. Laugh at the silly nonsense of falling and losing in love. Hopefully. I hope I never cry when I read it again. Now, <>that would be a tragedy.

He wanted to talk to me about his professional life. We meet very rarely but I knew most details of his life - though not his love life. It would be safe to say that I know most everything about him though I never ever wanted to hear about his love life. It kills me.

I dressed well for the evening. Dressed well according to my standards. I wore a black knee length skirt with side slits and a chiffon top to match and pretty large gypsy earrings. (The earrings were a recent acquisition, which I just picked on a whim the same evening. I have a thing about earrings - they boost me up. I think the world stands firm on such trinkets…they make a woman feel good when she's really down.) Flimsy white sandals completed the picture. I was aiming for attractive but I think I made it to presentable. Of course, nothing mattered! This was just to boost my self esteem et al.

We sat down at a candle-lit table for two and he updated me on his work life. We discussed work for quite a while, when suddenly the topic switched painfully.

"Don't you want to know about my personal life?" he asked, smiling. NOOOOOOOOO!!! My mind screamed. I knew that had recently broken up with his long-time girl friend and was currently enjoying his unattached status.
"No" I answered, quietly, without fire.
"…but I want to tell you."
"-but I don't want to know. My voice distinctly cooler. Are you mad! I don't wanna know anything about the bimbettes in your life. NO! NO! NO!
He continued remorselessly.
"…I met a girl in the train to M______. Seems she was bonkers about me even when I was with my previous girl friend…I spent the week getting to know her in M______..."
Can't he get it? I really don't wanna know. I am NOT a masochist. He persisted not knowing my agony.
"She's a physiotherapist. Blah blah -" Slut. Bitch. @#$%

Physiotherapist my foot! Cheap slut! I could tear her to pieces. Tiny, tiny, messy bloody pieces. BITCH! I could scream out at him. Wail and rant and tear my clothes in madness but I stayed outwardly calm. I was proud of myself, my self-control. I did not short circuit.

I desperately needed my friend L____. If she was there, we'd exchange looks and she'd understand my torture and I most probably would've started crying.

"-we are getting married in December 2007. We've met each other's parents. Things just happened you know, and we let things take their course…"
I mentally squeezed my eyes shut, crying at the futility of it all. Why the hell did things not take their course with us? I was numb with shock and grief. I had no hope of us ever being romantically involved but…
A knife stabbed through my heart. I was dying inside. The pain was almost unbearable.

AAAARRRRGGH! He says that I am his best friend. Best friend indeed! Why can't I be more? Why do we share this awful platonic relationship? I hate that blasted Plato.

"Do you want to see her picture?" he continued eagerly.
"No." I replied. Cold. polite. NO way. I'd rather slash my wrists. The blade thrust deeper.

He wants me to sing for his wedding. I could not believe my ears. Gosh this was really weird. It was almost funny. Inside I was laughing hysterically. He keenly wants me to sing his wedding special ------
"…you can sing and I hope I don't tread step on my wife's toes". Oh God! He has no idea of the way I feel. If he knew, he would not deliberately torture me so.

The blade twisted. I am in shreds. I was following the maxim - 'Laugh when it hurts. Smile when it kills you - a smile that he described as a smirk.

I don't know how I survived the evening. We parted. I vowed that this was the last time I'd meet with him. I wished him all the best for his future - and yes, dear reader, I sincerely wish him all the best.

I told him that I too would be marrying soon. He heard my words but he missed the catch in my voice.



"Beautifully embodying the feeling of a young girl although to much emphasis is given on the “LOVING factor”. " -- Mariann Dsouza, Dubai, UAE, UAE.
"Thats sweet, very beautiful, and i dont believe it is wasted on males either. Very passionate, well i believe so. Well done :)" -- Josh / Axey.
"I dont understand this piece. It doesn't make any sense" -- Sarin.
"Everything seems to be there, the anticipation, the preparation, the meeting and finally the hurting..Beautiful attempt.." -- Abu, Mumbai, Maharashtra, India.


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© 2004 Avis
December 2004

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