“This is it. It’s finally here. Everything thus far has been leading up to this moment, all the smiles, all the joking, all the heart-wrenching farewells have been building towards this. All my torrid despair has been working up to this moment. Finally I find myself alone with Emily.
We are both quite drunk, but she decides to leave, and none of our friends choose to as well, so I jump at the chance to walk her home, and suddenly find myself sober. She puts on her coat, and we walk out onto the street, talking of the banal as we go.
It is a blustery night. A strong, warm wind is swirling erratically through the lamp lit streets, and autumn leaves wrestle futilely to remain immobile in the town’s gutters. The scene is not unlike that in my mind; tempestuous, unpredictable, yet spasmodically clear. I must find a way to calm myself.
We carry on walking, and carry on talking. I am trying gently to force the conversation in the direction I want it to take, but with little success thus far. She asks a question and I reply instinctively. My mind elsewhere.
I cannot help but think about her at this point. I replay the moments we’ve shared, the time we danced and her soft hands were in mine, the time she leant into me on a crowded bus, and when we wandered just a little behind our friends and truly got to know each other. My mind now turns to the future, holding her tightly as she cries, singing to her from the kitchen, and her smile on our wedding day.
But what foolishness is this! Don’t let the possibilities distract you from the moment. I must ask her, and soon as we are nearly halfway back to her house, but still her drunken monologue continues.
A large branch dashes across the road in front of us as we hunch into our coats to shelter from the wind. She laughs at this, and smiles up at me. My heart races. Her eyes are such a deep blue. They are a labyrinth, and I am lost in them. Again I am too caught up in her beauty to persuade myself to act.
She draws closer, complaining of the cold, and I bring my arm up round her shoulders. She nestles in and thanks me. Suddenly she is appreciatively silent.
Now! Now is the time! You’ve fantasised for months, and now the perfect moment is here. Yet despite this urge, I find myself unable to muster up the courage to ask her. I open my mouth, but no words come out. I am blocking myself, but I have no idea why. This is what I want. This is what I want, but my fear of rejection seems to now affect me on a subconscious level. I cannot make myself ask.
I am now screaming inside. Screaming at myself in frustration, but also screaming as any sane man would in the presence of such a beauty.
Her house comes into sight and I try once more to talk. No luck. I look down at her, and she looks back up. My inside sinks again. Oh for her perfect lips to touch mine! What ecstasy is denied!
We arrive at her gate, and she thanks me for walking her home. We embrace, and after we release, she lingers and stares at me, her lips turned slightly up at the edges. Her eyes are expectant, and I soon find myself drowning in them once more. But no! Ask her! This could be the pivotal moment of your entire life!
I open my mouth, and my jaw hangs for a second or two. At the back of my throat there is a battle raging. My whole being is suddenly drunk again, my head spins, my stomach turns. I cannot bring myself to ask. If she were to say no, my entire life would crumble.
“Goodnight” I say, and she says goodnight too, her face immobile the whole time. If only she were to smile broadly for one final time! Then my fear may be overcome. But no.
She wanders into the darkness, and a few seconds later the lights in the house come on. I cannot move, and I simply watch the curtains as the wind tries desperately to move me. But there is no twitch, no movement at all.
I turn and begin to wander homewards. There’ll be another moment I assure myself. But what if I cannot bring myself to ask then either. What if this inability to make myself vulnerable haunts me my whole life? Was that the moment to change my life?
I walk silently through the blustery streets, my mind alive with questions, but as I reach my home, a heavy sense of disappointment creeps over me. Everything led up to that moment, will everything unwind from here?”
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