Second Chances

It was not raining. I thought it should be. When you see these scenes in movies, the main character always rushed up to the door with his hair dripping in his face, gleaming wet and somehow still perfectly done. Rain sets a mood. It shows the worry that is building in someones gut. It shows the anxiety pouring down on them, soaking them to the bone. It shows resolution. A sad shot of someone walking away, defeated so thoroughly that the world turned against them. A streak of sunlight breaking through the desolate clouds, lighting up the road for a future with no more rain. A future that people rarely get.

He gives a monologue that most people have memorized but it is okay because he really means it. This time. I do not get any rain. I am not important enough for Hollywood to come and be my salvation. I do not have a ‘happily ever after’ guaranteed. I just have a Mistake. One I do not think I can fix with an apology. This is my last chance though. I have to make it work.

His heartfelt apology makes anxiety, relief, and eagerness bubble in your chest, waiting for a chance to burst. This man usually has flowers. I should have brought flowers. It was cliche. But cliches had to come from somewhere. Hope dances in his eyes, a forgotten dream about to reappear. He scrambles and stutters his way through, though the girl normally finds this endearing. She keeps her hand over her mouth and tries not to cry. She fails. She would not fail. She is much too strong. At least, to ever let me see again.

He finishes with his apology, the last statement always being something to the effect of, “Say the word, and you never have to see me again.” I can’t do that. Whether because of love or desperation, I will probably never know. Maybe it is just bad luck. Bad luck rings through me. I can never escape it. I will not make it through tonight like I want too. But that is giving a lot of credit to an unknown source of fate. I should leave. That is what got me into this situation in the first place. I am good at that.

He goes to leave. She stops him, a gentle hand on his arm. He turns, so hopeful. The apprehension is easy to see. You can sense it through the television. She gives him a smile that could light a town for days and throws her arms around his neck. They share a kiss and the world is all better. Like a kiss makes the world better. It is a wonderful notion, a story to tell children at night. Real life did not work like that. My life never did.

Or maybe I watch too many movies. Maybe she will see who it is and slam the door in my face. I wouldn’t blame her. I messed up. I left. I ran away. The world said “Give up!” and I did. I listened to the world. I was a coward and now I have to redeem myself and I can’t ever do that. I can’t redeem myself, she has to redeem me. My apology means nothing without its companion of forgiveness. Never listen to the world.

Take a deep breath. Ring the doorbell. That’s it. That’s all I have to do and I can’t because she will be there and I can’t and it’s my fault but that doesn’t make it easier, it makes it so much worse. She could read into my soul. It was just another page on one of her books. A book with a horrible ending, put aside, never to be read again.

I couldn’t do it. I ran away once and it wasn’t enough and I can’t go back because I never had to see the hurt in her eyes the first time but now I will and can I really face that? Can I have those beautiful eyes looking at me with such hate and regret for days so far in the past? I would say I don’t have a choice but I do. I could run and she would never know and I could pretend that none of this ever happened with only a movie scene playing in the back of my head to remind me of my failures and I can’t-

A chime came from inside the house. My finger had rung the doorbell, despite my trepidation. Maybe because of it. Emotions are tricky that way. They get tangled up and you can never tell when one ends and another starts. It’s like the basket of yarn that is my heart just got dumped on the floor to be played with by joyful children and naughty kittens. A faint yell came from inside the house, I assumed directed toward me. Footsteps were coming near and the knob on the door turned. I firmly planted my feet in fear that they would disobey my mind that had finally made a choice.

The door opened and there she was. She was beautiful in ways that I could never hope to describe because it was just her. Her eyes widened and she shot a glance at the… at the child hiding behind her leg. It has been so long. Too long. This was my second chance and I had chosen to take it. Turning back now would be worse so I squared my shoulders with all the dignity I had left. The men in movies always make this seem easy. Once they were there, they had confidence by the barrels.

Whatever dignity I may have had left failed me and I shrunk under something. Maybe the implications of what I had done, what I will do. Maybe her gaze. It took her a few moments to recognize me. When her eyes widened, with recognition and pain, I lost. But, then again, I lost years ago. I made my choice. Whether or not it was the right one, I will never know. But going back now would be too devastating. Maybe I am just too selfish. I don’t want to see her hurt because of the pain it will cause me. I came to explain myself for my sake. I was a selfish man who listened to the selfish world and tore a whole in someone, without close to a second thought. I can’t do that to her again. I won’t.

“Hi.”