Three Little Words

I wish to thank NALA CAYENNE for editing the story and being a real help.

Comments and suggestions are more than welcomed.

-UnlessIfI-

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"Why can't you just say it? Why must it be so hard for you? Can't you just say it, for once? Why is everything so difficult with you?"

I looked into his eyes and saw the sadness and disappointment in them. A flash of white-hot humiliation went through me. I froze and dropped my eyes. It had always been hard for me to put my feelings into words. Maybe it was because I was shy, maybe it was because the crude comments of a past boyfriend still haunted me, or maybe I just didn't know how to. Maybe I made too big a deal out of it and made it too difficult for myself. That was probably it. It still didn't make things any easier, though.

Three little words and I couldn't say them. I thought them often. I said them in my mind when I looked at him sleeping next to me, when he cooked in our little kitchen, when he laughed. I thought of the words every single day but they refused to roll from my tongue. I tried to show him every day how I felt. I tried to convey it in every touch, in every word (all but those three he needed to hear) and in every thing I did.

"I... I..." I couldn't even finish the sentence.

He sighed and I heard the door close. He had left. I felt my eyes fill with the tears I had refused to let him see.

He left for a business trip and would be gone for a week; I missed him already. It killed me to have disappointed him when he was going away. The look in his eyes when I started to stutter was all I could remember. Hurt and disappointment filled his eyes and then he was gone.

I was left behind with my thoughts. On the first day I thought only about how difficult it was for me to say it aloud, how scared I was of it. I paced around the empty flat the whole day, made cups of tea to calm me down and then forgot them lying around with only a few sips drunk. I slept little that night.

On the second morning I wished I could call him and ask him to come back so we could talk. I could make him understand, I was sure of it. I missed him. I wanted to touch him and I wanted him near me so I could smell his after shave and hear one of his stupid stories about Italy.

The next day found me as a mess. My heart started to ache around noon that day, I was sure it was because I missed him so. The problem with three words seemed stupid now, insignificant and small. I became angry at myself for being so scared of every little thing in this world, for being a wimp, for only having the courage to touch him when he wanted to hear my words too. God, it was so frustrating to see how stupid I have been. Stupid, stupid little hang ups that just make me unhappy, that make us unhappy.

"Damn." I said aloud. "Damn. Damn. Damn!"

The remainder of the week went in the same feelings. For the life of me I could not understand why it had been so difficult for me to speak my mind. Such a little thing as that seemed like the biggest hurdle. I felt like I didn't know the person I was last week, timid over such an issue. Having such a shift happen in the way I thought didn't change the fact that I kept walking around the flat with half full luke warm cups of tea. That is when I could find a cup anywhere.

He came back after that week. I was relieved to see him standing in the doorway; It was the longest week of my life. I hadn't slept well at all and I had missed him like crazy. A separation like this had made my eyes open. In the back of my mind I had been terrified that he might not have come home when at the same time I knew he wouldn't leave me like this.

"I love you," I said looking at him still standing by the door. It was the only way I could welcome him back. It felt like it was the way things had always been.

"I know. Was that so hard to tell me? I know it and I feel it but I still wanted to hear it from you. I'm glad you told me, hun."

I could have held him for hours. It really was that easy.