I waited for him to go on. I waited for him to say I came back because all these years I thought about you like I said I would. I waited to hear him say I thought of you and your success and wanted to say that I was in love with you too. I waited for him to say…
“I wanted to congratulate you on your success,” he said, breaking my thoughts.
Bull shit. I thought. Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to congratulate me?
“Is that all you came to tell me? You could have just wrote me you know.”
He watched my eyes with a hurt look on his face. Then rose from his seat and walked toward my kitchen window facing the Empire State Building.
“I always knew you’d make it here. And I’m glad, no I’m happy and excited, and proud that you made it,” he said, staring outside.
I had nothing to say, I realized suddenly. What could I have said to this man? Could I have told him that I expected more from him, more than a bottle of wine and a congratulation, more than his words and his sincere happiness for my success? Could I have?
I could have, but my ego did not allow it. So I held on to my drink and said nothing for a while. It was silence again and I decided to politely ask him to leave since I was very tired.
“Listen. I um. Thank you. Really, thank you so much for everything. And I didn’t mean it like that. I just. I don’t know, I guess I never thought you’d be the kind to come down here to see me. And I am so glad you did.”
It was the most inarticulate phrasing of words. And I admit that my expectations were high, too high, like they had always been. I became a child again, the one who always wanted to talk, to say anything.
To be continued…