Why?

How can someone you're supposedly over, affect you this deeply when you meet? That's what she asks her self, the evening after running into him -at a gallery opening of all places!! A gallery opening. Him. The man with the least artistic appreciation in any single human being she had ever met in her entire life. Why did she ever love him?

Yes I loved him, she admits to her self. She is sure now that she had loved him at one point, and had he asked her, she probably would’ve spent the rest of her life with him. She had loved him, but she had never been in love with him. Big difference. She knew that even back then. She had loved the fact that he was good looking -classic eye candy. She had loved how manly he was (in both the moral and physical sense). She had loved that lots of women found him sexy. She had loved that she could have a conversation with him, even though they rarely agreed, unless she curbed her ideals a little. She had loved that everybody loved him, especially her mother. She had loved his potential for great kindness. But most of all, she had loved how experienced and street-wise he was -the quintessential male characteristic needed to balance her female ones out.

She had loved him rationally, but never emotionally. So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him 24 hours after their brief encounter? Brief, and awkward. She spotted him before he did her, but there wasn’t anywhere for her to go to avoid him. The place was crowded and she couldn’t turn around, he would’ve seen that. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Maybe if she looked the other way he wouldn't see her. Maybe he’d pretend he didn’t see her either, and it would be over. No such luck.

“Hey” started the very familiar greeting, in the very familiar, and good sounding drawl. She pretended not to notice, even though she could see him out of the corner of her eye, as he bent sideways to get in her line of vision. She was trying to buy herself some time, although she had no idea what for.
“Oh hi” she answered half startled, acting like she'd only just noticed him. She tried to keep her voice friendly and nonchalant... if there is such a thing.
“How are you?” He asked her with a smile, making her realize that she missed listening to his deep, calm voice. A voice that always made you feel it was telling you an important secret. Something for your ears only... You can’t help but pay attention.
“I’m well” she replied with a little smile -friendly, yet not too friendly... at least she hoped that’s how it appeared.
“What are you doing here?” the second she said that she regretted it.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her back. That bothered her a little.
“I’m an artist, I have to be here”
“Well I’m a financier and I have to be here” That didn’t make any sense to her, but she didn’t feel like pursuing it. She let his nonsensical comment slide.
“Umm... at Finch, right? “Right” “Still working there?”
“Yes. And you... green designs? Still working there?”
“Yes” Where else would I be? she thought to herself.
“How are you? What have you been up to?”
“I’m well” she repeated, noticing that he still had that very irritating habit of repeating a question over and over when he had nothing to say. Or maybe it was very irritating only because she didn’t want to be there. Suddenly she realized that she had been consistently shuffling around, edging her way away from him. By that point, she was 180 degrees from where she had first started at the beginning of their conversation.
“How’s your family?” he asked, still smiling. Pausing the conversation, since it was now going on in her mind, she notices that all through it, she hadn’t met his eyes for more than about a second at a time. That was very uncharacteristic of her. Why had she done that?
“Family’s doing well. Mom was here for a visit”
"Really?!” he sounded genuinely happy. He had had a good relationship with her mother. Her mother had liked him... that is until she had cornered her daughter into a confession of what had happened. Then all the love she had had for him had turned to very angry hate.
“How could he do this to you? Why did you not give him a piece of your mind? You should’ve skinned him alive. Him and her. Some friend she turned out to be! You are just too decent. Too nice. People take advantage of you!!” She still remembered her mother’s words. That’s why she didn’t tell him to call her up and say hi. That, and she really didn’t feel like having a conversation with him. She didn’t feel like connecting... reconnecting if you want to be precise.
“Yeah. Left last week” she smiled perfunctorily. “My brother got married”
“Oh my God! When?”
“11 months ago” she replied with a broad smile she couldn’t help. Her brother meant the world to her.
“Wow! Congratulations!”
“Thank you” Good! that ought to show him what he’s been missing out on ever since that last time. He had been friends with her brother, but they had inevitably lost touch after what had happened.
“How are you? How have you been doing?” he repeated, looking good in his light colored suit. Yes, his ability for repetition was, and still is, very irritating, she thought.
“I’m doing well” she replied patiently, noticing that his salt and pepper hair, getting more salt than pepper, was still his most striking feature.
“Well... I don’t want to keep you from your friends...” his voice died. Looking for reassurance? She didn’t know. Didn’t care.
Her kind instinct was considering telling him: not really, but she held her tongue at the last second. Instead, she raised her hand up in a silent good bye and turned on her heel, heading for the opposite direction. Just like that he was out of her line of vision, and it was over. Just like that it was like it had never happened. What was it anyway? An interruption? A bump in her road? An irritation? A reminder? She couldn’t really tell. But whatever it was it had made her unable to think.

Still in a haze, she made it to the end of the spacious foyer, filled with chattering people, and didn’t know what to do next. She turned around and made her way back to where she had come from. It meant she could run into him again, but there was no where else to go. She stuck to the opposite side of where they had been standing seconds ago. Hiding between the tall crowd, she could just see him, talking into his cell phone... smiling. No, smirking. The kind of smirk he had when he was being roguish... or flirtatious. Was he on the phone with what's her face? No way for her to know for sure.

Still recounting their very brief conversation, if you could really call it that, for what seemed like the hundredth time, she couldn’t stop thinking about how he had pretended like nothing had happened. That they had ended on a good note. Because they hadn’t. Not with that woman around. Her. The friend. So-called friend. The last person she would've thought could come between them. For God’s sake, she had introduced them!! How classic. The memories all just wreaked too much of old movies, screwed love triangles and twisted love-hate stories.

She recalls that it wasn’t like her relationship with him had always been a bed of roses. They had disagreed before, been at each other’s throats even. Actually, being the passionate one, she was always the one with the wig outs. He was always the calm one, the one who’d bring back the conversation to a sane level. But not that time. Definitely not. In fact, he was the one who had started the argument. The accusation. Out of no where. Completely blind siding her.

She had thought he was calling her for an emergency. His voice had sounded serious and urgent. He knew how she didn’t like to get calls at work, because of her very private nature -even if she was on her cell phone. She didn’t like people listening in on her conversations, especially not her conversations with him. She was a very different person around him than the person she was at work.

The memories come flooding in: her cell phone glued to her ear, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could he have believed that what he was saying to her was logical at all? How could he have believed the other woman? How could he have believed the other woman over her?! All this time gone by and she still can’t believe it. She had thought he knew her better than anyone else. She had thought he knew that she doesn’t lie -least of all to him. She doesn’t have to. Not when she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind -as he knew only too well. How could the other woman have had such a strong effect on him? Such a powerful influence? In such a short period? How could he forget the original for the copy? How could he trust the new instead of the tried and true? How could he betray her? That angered and disappointed her greatly. But... what hurt her, and hurt her deeply if she was honest, was that he had not believed her when she had told him it wasn’t true. How could he? HOW COULD HE?! That’s why she had walked away. What else could she have done after that last time? That call. That distasteful call. She still remembered it. Not in great detail. She never did have a good memory. But she remembered how it had made her feel. How angry. Infuriated. How could he? How dare he?! How did he find it in his heart to talk to her like that and accuse her in that manner? She thought he knew her better. But apparently not. At least not when his little head was doing his thinking. His thinking of another woman that is. It till irked her how he had blamed her. How he couldn’t wait until she had left the office for the day. How he couldn’t wait until he could talk to her face to face. How he had automatically accused her for the sake of the other woman. How he could easily do all of that after all they’d been through.

Amazingly, it still hurts. After so long, it still hurts.

What she still can’t figure out was how it all had happened. And right under her nose. Her mother was right. She really was very naive. Even though she had done her best to toughen up. Thicken her skin. Wise up. Still... with the right words, people could easily dupe her. She trusted too easily. She still believed people. Believed in them. Which made the inevitable burn hurt even more.

She doesn’t know how it hit her, but right in the middle of her dark train of thoughts she realizes that she doesn’t have any feelings for him now. None whatsoever. She is completely neutral towards him. If anything, she feels sorry for him. Sorry because the second she had walked out of his life he had lost something great... and replaced it with something broken. Any restlessness she has is because of her want of a storybook closure. A clear one. The kind where the wronged get their own back with the entire world watching.

She wants him to tell her that he was wrong. That he had wronged her. That he misses her. That he wants her back in his life.

Realistically it’s not very likely to happen, especially not after yesterday’s cold shoulder. She knows that instinctively. She knows that she will have to chalk this to yet another botched up try.

When will it end? How does this keep happening to her? ... Why did she run into him? Why?