A Very Long Engagement

I was still sitting on the edges of the fountain, looking down at the ground – of course feeling awfully sorry for myself – when Dave came running. Apparently, I had left my bag when I ran out of the café. I didn’t care. I just had to get out. Dave, having been my best friend long since I can even remember, knew that I would always come to this place. ‘This place’ is a teeny tiny park with a fountain in the middle of it. Dave and I found it hidden behind an old office complex when we were little. Now the buildings around it have gotten taller, but thank God they left the fountain as it was.

“You okay?” he asked, in the middle of catching his own breath. “Next time, please give me a sign before you storm out of a café leaving your things behind. I was lucky you don’t run that fast.”
“It’s these damn stilettos.” I pointed at the creme Blahniks on my feet. “I though I should look good when I confronted Miles. But you know what? The next time I’m breaking off an engagement, remind me not to wear heels at all. Force me to wear… I don’t know… Keds, or something.”
“Why did you run, anyway? We knew that he was the one who cheated. You should’ve stayed there and throw the coffee at him or something. Didn’t we have this planned? I was supposed to grab him out of the chair after you were done talking and throw him on the street? You would just say it with a great amount of coolness? What happened?”
“I don’t know. You think I wanted to embarrass myself like that? You think I don’t know he was the one who’s supposed to go with humiliation?
“I guess,” I exhaled heavily, “I guess I didn’t think it would hurt that much.”

I looked up at the sky. It was almost nine and the buildings surrounding us were saving money so they had kept very little light on. The moon and stars shone beautifully. Too bad I wasn’t that keen on space objects that night. I was upset, and whenever I am upset I always need a distraction. So I moved my hands to take off my stilettos off. But I’ve never been good at finding something simple to distract myself. A minute later I got frustrated from trying to release the strings, “damn piece of really nice leather!” As frustration can be overwhelming at times, I felt all the waterworks in my body is about to burst out and ruin my mascara.

Dave sat next to me. He put my bag down and sat next to me because he knew I was on the verge of crying. He took his hands out of his pocket and removed mine from what they were busy doing.

“It’s alright. Let me do that.” He did and the first shoe he gave to me I slammed onto the pavement so hard that it chipped it. Obviously it stunned Dave a little. He looked at me and said, “you know, it’s a good thing you didn’t throw them at Miles,” he put his jacket on my shoulders, “that could seriously damage his head.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Oh, come on, I mean… have you looked at how pointy those shoes are?” Dave is always this way. He’ll come to you with a joke. Whether or not it’s funny, he’ll come to you with it. “You could drill a hole on his skull.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Yeah you’re right.”
“I just wish you did.”
“Me too,” I looked at Dave. He smiled at me the way he smiles, with just one corner of his lips, and out of nowhere we just started laughing.
“Kate, you should’ve seen his face when you started to question him,” Dave laughed so hard, but I was laughing harder
“I know, it was like ‘shit, she’s gonna kill me with those shoes.’”
“And when you threw the ring at him, oh wow! That was the most dramatic scene I have ever seen in real life.”
I stopped laughing and gasped in the horror of seeing myself doing something very drama queen-ish. In public!
“Oh my god! Was it tacky? Tell me it isn’t! Oh my God, that’s so embarrassing.”
“Relax. It’s normal. You should’ve remembered to take the diamond off first… then we’ll be happy.”
“You should’ve told me earlier! We could be off taking a trip by now. Rio, maybe?”
“Your honeymoon spot? No, no, no, no, no. Don’t you think that’s the last place you want to see?”
“Hey, I may have called the whole thing off, but I still want the vacation.” I smiled, looking down.
Dave put his right hand on top of my head and tousled it softly, “I’m sorry you didn’t get your honeymoon, AND I’m sorry you didn’t get a wedding.”

He was right. I WASN’T going to have a wedding. No matter how hard I had prepared for this last night, it’s always harder to hear it from someone else’s mouth. Suddenly a heavy feeling in my chest started to build up. Butterflies gathered in the center of my stomach for anything but Zsa zsa zsu.

“Kate?” Dave lowered his face so he can see me. I looked up so our eyes met.

I mimicked the way he smile – with just one corner of his mouth and said to him in an unsuccessful disguised crying sob, “I was really, really, happy,” and finally surrendered and cried while Dave pulled me so I could cry on him.

“Go ahead and cry as long as you want.” He gently stroked my hair, pat my back, and do all the things you should do to soothe a person weeping. I don’t know how long I wept but I do remember reminiscing to 1997. Dave was holding me in the exact manner like now. He was consoling me out of a feud I got into with none other than Miles. He was always there for me. I always told his girlfriends that he’s ‘the man you would want to spend the rest of your life with’. Funnily enough, even after I say that, they never seemed to stay very long. And he’s never kept a relationship long enough to work.

When I finally calmed down, he handed me a tissue taken out of my purse. I must’ve looked terrible that he gave me a handful of it. His shirt was soaked and I said sorry for it. He told me not to worry about it, “I’ll just have you pay for my dry cleaning later,” and smiled.

“Dave... you know all about how Miles and I first got together in high school and we broke up and got together again and broke up again and got together again and finally this? I used to think that he was the one I was gonna have picnics with, the one I will be making breakfast for, celebrate Christmases with – not because we celebrate it, but because it will be a holiday… but as it turns out, I’m not gonna be doing that with him. It’s all over,“ I looked at the left pair of my Blahnik and hold it up in front of my face, “just like this one. Its life with me is over now. I think I’ll give them to my transvestite neighbor or something. Or give it to Salvation Army,” I shrugged.
“I doubt they’ll need a pair of stilettos there. But I’m sure when they need to drill out a group of people committing suicide from a cave, it will come in handy,“ Dave smiled. I chuckled with him.
“Anyway,“ I continued, “what’s funny is that I saw a rerun of Ellen on TV last night, and there was this couple. They were both about 90 years old and met in 1934. They went to high school together and did the whole courtship thing, but couldn’t be together because of all the things that were happening then. But last month or so, 73 friggin’ years later, they tied the knot. When they came out to the stage everybody was on their feet giving applause and I can tell they were all touched by the story.”
“Who wouldn’t? It’s always sweet when you hear someone getting married to their high school sweetheart. I think waiting 73 years to do it qualifies BEYOND any level of charm.”
“Yes, but,” I sighed, “last night, knowing that I was going to end my engagement with Miles, I can’t help but thinking would I have to wait that long? Would it take me 73 years to actually get a chance on being loved?” I turned my head around, facing Dave, who quickly made my (physical AND metaphoric) heart jump because he met my move with his lips on the right corner of mine.

I remembered the thoughts that went in my mind: ‘what the hell are you doing?’, ‘I don’t think this is a good idea!’ and, ‘well, maybe.’ All in just 8 seconds and then it ended. A mix of all sorts of things. Good things.

As he finally pulled away he smiled, “Maybe not that long.”





PS. bosen nih! udah ga jelas banget mo nulis apa boookkk! kalian dong nulis!