Looking out the Window
A short story about a short romance.
July 9th, 2018
“He was different,” she wrote on the first line of the first page of her new journal. She thought for a moment. She had planned to get the whole situation out of her system by putting it down on paper. Usually the words came easily to her, but today she didn’t know what to write. She put her pen down and looked out the window. Her window had a view of a field with scattered old oak trees. It was easy to get lost in dreams while looking out.
He was different from other men she had been involved with. Different in a good way for sure. On their first official date he had taken her on a picnic. When he told her over the phone about his idea to eat on a blanket she had been speechless for a second. It wasn’t the conventional date suggestion. But they had a wonderful time on the blanket, laughing and talking while the hours flew by and it got dark. It made her smile thinking about it. They shared interests and a taste in both food and music. They had deep conversations that flowed for hours. He was knowledgeable and always curious to learn more. She liked that about him. That the sex had turned out to be some of the best in a long time had been a real surprise. A real good surprise. He had skills; she had to admit that.
Then why had she been holding back?
She was a successful career woman, with a strong network of family and friends. Now in her late 30s she had an engagement and another two serious relationships behind her. All seemed like good men, but over time their personal issues became more prominent. She had shifted her own plans to accommodate theirs, determined to make each relationship work. Eventually she ended up losing not only her plans but also her own sense of identity in the relationship. That’s why she had to leave them.
She had to work hard to regain her confidence and identity after each one. Every relationship had its own issues which she had to work through by herself after it ended. She had succeeded and grown as a person every time, but it was never easy. Sometimes when she was alone with her thoughts, there was this hanging feeling of insecurity; why do I keep failing in love?
They had quickly become keen students of each other bodies. Asking each other what they liked and what felt good. He had been keen to discover her body’s different hot spots, through kissing and caressing her. She felt truly desired by him, and she loved that feeling. She could turn him on in seconds, and he could do the same to her. It made her feel playfully powerful, and at the same time she adored surrendering to his power over her. It felt good to be around him. Natural and easy. She felt like she could be herself.
She was strong and independent now. Her three-year plan was slowly falling into place, and she intended to follow through with it. She wanted a complete break from work and time for other projects and pleasures. She dreamed of having a child, of raising a family.
That’s why she had to end it. She knew herself. She would end up becoming involved. She could already feel she was developing strong feelings for him, and it scared her. She was afraid that she would compromise on her plans as she had done in the past. Risk losing her dreams and once again end up heartbroken. It was for the best not to go further. She needed to get her career and life in order. That was her priority. And this new man, wonderful as he was, did not fit her plans. She also knew he wouldn’t understand.
That’s why she broke it off and she preferred not to see him for the time being.
She knew she could not trust herself around him.
She would get pulled in.
Get lost in his eyes.
Feel safe in his arms.
Want to be close to him.
Make love to him.
She would lose herself in his desire for her.
She woke up from her thoughts and looked down at her Moleskin, still with just one line written. She bit her lip for a moment and then closed the journal. She knew she should write more, but that one line felt enough for the moment. She turned and looked out the window again.
August 4th, 2018
This was his favorite coffee shop. Just two blocks from his flat. He made himself comfortable in an armchair by the window where he had a view of the river running through the city. It was peaceful to see the water and some boats quietly pass by. He opened his journal to start writing. He wanted to write about something else than her. He just didn’t know what. He bit his pen. A bad habit from school that he hadn’t been able to kick even as an adult.
“She was really special,” he wrote on the first line. He turned his head and looked out over the river again, trying to find the words to express how he was feeling.
She was different from other women he had spent time with. On the outside she had a beautiful smile, and on the inside an insatiable curiosity. She had a thirst for life that could make a room glow. He enjoyed listening to her thoughts and views on a range of subjects. She once asked rhetorically how anyone could ever be bored in this world when there is so much to learn and discover. He never told her, but he fucking loved that line. He was always learning from their conversations, and he only hoped that she enjoyed them as much as he did.
Still, he had felt that there had been something holding her back. He had been wondering what it was, but he didn’t want to pry and decided to wait for her to open up and share her thoughts with him. It never happened.
She had a successful corporate career and had worked very hard for it. Eventually becoming one of the youngest female partners at her firm. She was rightfully proud of her achievements, but she also knew that success in one area of life often came at the expense of other areas. Life is simply about choices. That mindset made her very humble about her career successes. He respected that. He had also enjoyed listening to her talk about her work. He knew so little about her industry that every sentence was a learning opportunity. Learning about it was also learning about her. She had a drive to succeed that he found intriguing.
The sex was some of the best he could remember. She had a soft body that he could not resist. He loved kissing her. On the lips, and then slowly across her whole body. Slowly caressing her. Going down on her. Hearing her enjoy it only strengthened his desire. They made love while kissing and looking into each other’s eyes. Such deep intimacy was a new world to him, and he thoroughly enjoyed every moment of exploring it. The closeness was a big turn on.
She told him she was curious, and yet afraid. She never said of what. She had life plans which she needed to focus on. She hadn’t told him much about them, but he knew it involved her taking a break and focusing on a new career. He knew she needed a break, and if anyone ever deserved one she did. He also knew she was not a person who could sit and do nothing. She would find another project after her break, or even during her break. He never understood why she would not share more with him. At least give him a chance to understand what she was thinking.
A month had passed since she broke it off. He had now spent almost as long without her as he spent with her to begin with. Four passionate weeks was all they got. Since she broke it off he had spent many restless nights wondering. Wondering where it went wrong. Was it something he said or did? Her body language when they were together said one thing while the words in her letter spoke differently. It confused him. There was also a feeling of insecurity; was I not good enough for her?
He wondered if he would ever find out what was going through her mind.
He wanted to hold her.
Be close to her.
Kiss her.
Make love to her.
He still desired her as much as ever.
He looked down at the four words staring back at him. “She was really special.” He had many thoughts, but he didn’t know where to start. He closed the journal, took a sip of his coffee and looked out the window again. Another day without much written. He feared another restless night ahead.
