It doesn't mean anything!
Lafayette's words echoed through the door. He was fighting with Michael. What were they fighting about? I leaned my ear against the door of the flat, where I had entered to try and surprise Lafayette, instead of using the main entrance.
We agreed that that was the last time and then things were going back to normal.
It was just sex.
They were fighting about me. Michael must have found out about our hooking up. I heard a door slam so I bolted back the way I came until I was a few floors down the stairwell. I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath.
I never really had an opinion on faith, but I guess it was fate that I overheard that conversation. Now it was going to save me from utter humiliation. It did not mean anything. It was just sex. I couldn't tell Lafayette my feelings, because he didn't have the same feelings. I couldn't bear to imagine how the conversation would have gone. I would pour out my heart to him and he would be forced to try and remain nonchalant while turning me down. He would hate being in that situation. He would blame himself. He would maybe even get mad. What if he wanted to fire me? Would that have been a fireable offense, if he went to the board with it?
I left the building and went to my apartment. I sobbed into a pillow. I wasn't humiliated. I didn't lose my job. I didn't get rejected to my face. But I was still heartbroken. It hurt so much. It hurt worse than any other heartache I had ever had. I couldn't stop crying. What was I supposed to do now? I spent so long imagining a future with Lafayette. I was so stupid. How was I supposed to move on? I loved Lafayette. How could I fall out of love - especially when I was going to see him everyday? Every time he would sit on the edge of my desk, when he would give that soft smile, when he would say my name quietly - all of it made me fall more and more in love with him.
Maybe I could find a new job. I did officially have an article published that I could add to a non-existent portfolio. I had gained a decent social media following. There was a chance I could find a marketing job. Maybe Montevideo had marketing jobs that would sponsor me. Maybe I could go to Australia to get as far away as humanly possible. Unfortunately, I couldn't leave my family behind. I could always move back home. I could go back to college.
There was so much I could do but nothing I wanted to do. All I wanted to do was be in Lafayette's arms again. I loved it when he would rest his head on my chest and I would gently glide my fingers along his back. It was so peaceful. It was one of my favorite things. How can I move on? How? How? How?
Alicia texted me, asking how it was going. I couldn't reply. I couldn't let her know I was a fool in love with my boss who, of course, would not love me back. This was all my fault anyway. I was the one who initiated the kisses. I was the one who initiated the sex. I dug my own grave. I couldn't even be mad at Lafayette, because we had come to an agreement when we decided to have sex with each other.
I eventually fell asleep in my sobbing session. I woke up hours later in the early evening. I couldn't go back home and I couldn't go to work. I ruined my sleep schedule by binge-watching my favorite movies (The Princess Diaries, The Bodyguard, The Cheetah Girls). I ordered Indian food and ate it all in one go, which made me feel sick later so I walked around my apartment and took some pepto to help. Then I had a terrible bowel movement and had to take a shower. It was past midnight.
I woke up late, probably around noon. Instead of being depressed and feeling like shit, I was slapping myself in the face. Come on, Em. Get it together. I am a strong, confident, independent young adult. I mean, I am not physically strong and I do cry a lot and I do feel self-conscious, but I am capable of things. I hopped on my laptop and looked up creative writing programs in the city and what the tuition was. I looked at my bank account, which had a good amount of savings, but then I looked at townhomes for sale and couldn't decide between getting an education or buying a place of my own.
The internet was no good for me. I put on some athletic clothing and went on a walk. It was so hot. I was sweating through my light gray shirt. Never wear light gray! It shows the sweat stains worse than any other color. I also didn't put any sunscreen on so I could feel my skin heating up. Worst of all, I forgot my sunglasses, and it was too damn bright. Damn the sun. It is not the sun's fault. Damn global warming. Damn this city for somehow having a million and one skyscrapers that only reflect the UV radiating sunbeams. Damn this city for the lack of a tree canopy. Damn, damn, damn.
My walk did not last long. I showered when I returned to the apartment, trying my best to tend to the sunburn before it got too rough. I chugged water to combat my dehydration. I couldn't decide what to do next. I wanted to be productive. I wanted to read a book, meditate, paint something, braid a necklace, cook a meal, do my laundry. I wanted to distract myself from my heartache. I wanted to feel like things were going to be okay, but none of it was working.
So I fell onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. Some tears fell again, but I wasn't sobbing as hard as yesterday. I think I was starting to accept the fact that my love was unrequited. It hurt, but what could I do? I just had to take the time to heal my heart. I shouldn't binge eat junk food or set unrealistic goals. I just had to take time for myself.
On Wednesday, I woke up at a reasonable time. I went to the coffee shop to get a drink and breakfast. It was a little cloudy out so the heat was bearable. I did my laundry and finished unpacking. I took a quick nap. I watched Cinderella (the one with Brandy, of course). I made myself a salad. I cried a little as I looked through photos from the trip.
Thursday, I decided to go to work. I didn't want to stay cooped up in my apartment. I also didn't want to wait to face Lafayette any longer. He came into the office looking so hot in his yoga outfit, his strong arms glistening. He smiled that smile I loved so much.
"What are you doing back early?" he asked.
"A week was a little too long," I said. "I just wanted to get back to work."
"Good. I'm glad you're back, but always take all the time you need," I said.
"Thank you." I just wanted to cry. So I dug into my drawer to try and make myself look busy enough that he would go away.
Instead, Lafayette sat on the edge of my desk. He gently lifted my chin, and it took everything in me not to confess my love or burst into tears. He tried to kiss me, but I pulled away. "Lafayette," I said and looked away, anywhere but at his beautiful face. "I...I think we should stop with the kissing and the sex." I couldn't resist. I glanced at him, but had to turn my gaze again. "We said we were going to work on ourselves, that we weren't dating anyone because we had to improve, so it was only physical. Well, I feel like I am ready to start dating people and settle down, so I think we should stop."
He nodded. "Okay," he said quietly.
"I'm sorry," I said, because he didn't look happy. It was always hard to read his face, but I could tell he didn't like what I said.
"No, don't be," he said and turned away. "I understand. You-you are right. We said it was just a-a release until we felt ready to find the right person." Why was he stuttering like that?
"Right..." I said.
He looked back at me. Could he tell I wanted to cry? "Well, I have to get to a meeting. Go ahead and get settled in," he said and then went into his office.
I heard the door to his flat shut. I cried again. I escaped to the bathroom to weep alone, as silently as I could, but I wasn't even sure who was in the office that day. It was quiet and I didn't think anyone knew I was back because I got here earlier than everyone else normally did. I composed myself and went back to my desk.
A chat message from Lafayette popped up on my screen. I have a meeting across town. I won't be back for the rest of the day. You can work from home if you want.
I rarely ever worked from home. I used to every now and then before becoming Lafayette's assistant. Sometimes, Lafayette and I would both work from his townhome, but I don't think I had ever worked from home alone since getting this promotion. Was he mad at me for ending our "situationship?" Did he just not want to see me? What if he was going across town to hook up with someone else? The thought alone hurt my heart again. He would never love me.
I took Lafayette up on his offer and worked from home, but all I did was keep my laptop open and waited for more messages from him. Even an email would make me feel better. There were no messages or emails, though. Nothing but silence. Tears fell but there was no weeping, no sobbing. It wasn't until the late evening when I received a text from Lafayette.
I won't be in the office Friday. Feel free to work from home.
Why? Was he that mad at me? Was he drafting a proposal to get me fired from the board? He couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. Despite being heart broken, I knew he wasn't a vindictive person. It didn't mean anything, anyway. He was probably just busy. I wasn't supposed to be here this week, so maybe he planned some of his own meetings without bothering to mention them. He wasn't going to fire me. It didn't matter if he was out hooking up with other people, which he probably wasn't doing because he didn't do that anymore and he also wanted to get back to work so it was most likely a real work meeting. I shouldn't try and sabotage the image of him to try and get over him. That was not fair to him. I loved him for a reason, after all. He was so lovable.
On Friday, I decluttered my inbox and looked at the calendar for next week. I was actually productive for the day. The apartment was clean. I worked out a little. I cooked. I planned a drag performance and styled some wigs.
I think I was at the acceptance stage of my heartbreak. Acceptance didn't mean my pain would go away. Mom told me something like that, a few weeks after Aunt Carmen passed away. She stayed in bed for a week after her death. Then one day, she came out of the room and cleaned the house. She went to work. At first, it was almost like nothing had happened, but then she would get teary eyed at the smallest thing, like when she looked at a tube of ruby red lipstick. She had accepted that Aunt Carmen was gone, but the pain and sadness was still there. Obviously, my grief over never being in a relationship with Lafayette was not as deep as my mother's grief for her twin sister, but her words did ring in my ear.
Acceptance doesn't mean pain goes away.
It was after five o'clock in the evening. There was a light rain outside. Heartache sucked, but I was going to live. I was going to be okay. I still had things going for me. I was young. I had a whole life ahead of me to live.
If I died today, what would I regret not saying?
They say that the reason why ghosts exist is because they have unfinished baggage that is holding them back from crossing over. If I died today, or tomorrow, or even a year from now - what unfinished baggage would I have? What if someone I loved died tomorrow? What would I regret not saying to them? The thoughts of death made me cry again. I hated death. I don't think death itself scared me, but the idea of not finishing the things I wanted to do in life scared me.
I couldn't do it.
I had to tell Lafayette. I just had to let him know. I had to let him know he was loved. He wouldn't fire me. He wouldn't hate me. He would gently turn me down and we would go back to being boss and assistant. We could maybe even still stay friends. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't tell him how I loved him and how he was so worthy of love.
I literally ran out of my apartment. I went so fast that I even forgot to bring my phone. It didn't matter. I went all the way to Lafayette's townhome. I still had the combination and a key to get inside. A light was on on the top floor of the townhome. I ran to the door, typed in the code, unlocked the door, and ran inside.
I had to tell him.