One night I inadvertently felt pain (v1.5)

I felt pain in one of those hazy nights, lazing through the smoke and the alcohol, making out shapes in the misty, dim-lit room. The soft chimes of the piano keys floated in our midst as I slouched over to make out her face.

I wasn’t sure why I felt the chest clenching pain. I wasn’t sure why it felt like my stomach just dropped down. I tried my best to hide it though and I don’t think she noticed me wince.

“That’s right. I like him, but I don’t think he’ll ever like me back” she gave her reply to my request for clarification.

She likes another man. Apparently, it’s a one side of thing. What was it called now?

“I hope you’re not judging me or something…” her voice trailed off. She looked down with a timid expression, probably because she just disclosed her deepest secret.

I tried to reach out, but my hand was trembling. Out of anger? Out of sadness? The piano was now doing a sonata. I held my hand back and let it fall on the table. I tried to be inconspicuous, by making it as if I was reaching for my coffee cup, but I just looked stupid and awkward.

I reassured her and told her that it’s fine. That people always undergo these sort of one-sided relationships (for which the actual term escapes my head at the moment). I told her that maybe if she could spend more time with him and get to know each other. The usual stuff. You know.

She was a shy girl anyway. Maybe these little moments of minute courage may help her to convince him to reciprocate his feelings. Maybe she can go ahead and live a happy life with this guy. Maybe I’ll stop thinking about her. Maybe then I’ll stop feeling this stupid pain in my chest. Maybe.

This guy who’s playing the piano is terrible. He’s playing the keys too loud now. I don’t think you’re supposed to slam your fingers on the keys.

She smiled. It was a peculiar smile out in the dimness and the fogginess of my mind. She smiled and thanked me and I said it was alright but she thanked me again and kept smiling. She smiled with those pink lips accented with a dab of rouge. It just broke my heart.

I told her that it’s alright to share these things with your close friends once in a while.

“What was that?”

Damn this piano. What does he think this is? An orchestra? You don’t need a damned crescendo in a café.

Nothing.

“Oh” she gave me a frustrated look. She doesn’t like it when I say that. Usually she would pout, but this time she remained silent for a while.

I rubbed my temples with thumb and index finger, trying to sort out my mind but the fogginess and loudness were preventing me from doing so. Everything felt like a dream that you’re keenly aware of, but not exactly lucid. It felt like I was sitting in the sidelines, watching the events unfold. I wanted to say things and express things, but my throat was dry and I couldn’t get the words out.

You don’t know. Sometimes all this pent up emotions might get the best of you. I’m now talking in a louder voice. My stomach felt funny as I was saying these words and my heart felt like twisting. Somehow I felt more pain. This piano isn’t helping either.

I stood up, knocking my chair over. My hand waved through the mist, through the smoke and alcohol, through the pain, as I made my way outside. She was following me as I dragged my feet outside. I was panting and my ears were ringing.

“Are you alright?”

I told her that I was fine. I then continued: I said that it’s not good to keep it in a one sided kind of way. It’ll hurt you in the end. It’s like a Dante and Beatrice kind of thing. Like Cyrano and Roxanne.

“Unrequited love?”

Yeah that’s what it’s called. Couldn’t think through that loud piano inside.

She smiled her heartbreaking smile again. I wanted to tell her to stop that. I was very close! I opened my mouth but cold air just went in my mouth and through my throat. I coughed and then smiled back at her. I said that it’s going to be alright.

“I hope so.”

I didn’t reply and we waited out in the cold for a while. I was leaning on the wall and she was just right there next to me, shoulder to shoulder, shivering, trying to keep some warmth.

I didn’t want to say anything else, but I wanted my presence known. I’m here. I share your plight. For years I’ve always wanted to say things and share things and express things. This sort of thing is slowly killing me inside. I tried to regain my composure and tried to think again: what if all of this works out for her? What if he reciprocates her feelings? I suppose it would be alright. I wouldn’t be bothered by her anymore. I wouldn’t have think and be tormented anymore. Maybe then I won’t have to worry about this whole Dante and Beatrice kind of thing. The pain welled up inside of me, but I can hear the piano inside calming down.

In the clear, cold, cloudless night, there was nothing but the wisps of our breaths, meandering, and ultimately dissipating into the night.