As I expected, meeting Maddie at the café was a warm moment, and as always lovely to spend a little time together.
We ordered coffees and talked a little about how I was doing. About how she was doing – of course I was interested in how she was too. I always was.
It was nice to thank her face-to-face for everything she had done for me over the previous few months, and needed her to understand I was doing much better. It was very important to me that she knew how thankful and gracious I was.
Which was absolutely what I was – much better. Maddie’s love had worked wonders for me.
After a little small talk and some sips of coffee I started to try and lead the conversation in the direction of our chat in the library that day, and that I was feeling things again thanks to that support which she gave unequivocally.
I can’t remember my words, but it didn’t take her long to figure out where I was going with my words.
“Andrew,” she said.
There was a tone to the way she said my name that kind of deflated me. I was worried.
“Honey, you have to know how much I love you, I know how much you love me. You are an amazing friend to me, and you always will be. You need to know that I am with someone, and he has asked me to marry him.”
Though it was probably really only a few seconds, I felt like it took me ten minutes to respond. At least it felt like it took that long to open my mouth again.
“Oh, wow, that’s amazing,” I eventually came back with.
“I am so very happy for you!”
Which was completely and utterly true. I was over the moon that she was happy and that it looked like she had found the man for her.
I also tried to hide that fact that I was crushed inside, but I’m sure she saw through that – just like she always saw through me when I was trying to hide how I was feeling.
We talked a little about him, and how they met.
What I couldn’t understand was why she hadn’t mentioned him before – given we’d been talking regularly for months, and not even at her birthday party did it seem there was anyone in her life.
It is true that I never directly asked her – (and that I probably shouldn’t have assumed) – but I would have felt that she’d have said something.
Yet she hadn’t.
At the end of our meetup, I am sure she sensed what had just happened for me, and hugged me extra tight and gave me a kiss on each cheek.
I asked her many years later why she never mentioned it, and she said it was so hard for her not to tell me. That she knew it was going to hurt me either way, but that she just wanted to be there for me in the first instance and that she thought I would understand.
And I did understand, yet there was still a hint of “why?” in my heart. It was a lightning bolt from left field, but I loved her. It wouldn’t be much of a love if I got angry at her for doing what was right for her.
For me, that is what love means – letting the person you love be the person they need to be.
“We’ll keep in touch, okay?” she asked.
“Of course!” I said back with the happiest voice I could possibly muster – then we parted in opposite directions.
While I wasn’t a long way down the path with my feelings again, I was still devastated. I also know she would have been hurting like hell to have hurt me, especially given the situation she had spent the last several months helping me get through.
I started to wonder if she really knew how much I cared about her. She should have known how I felt after so long, but did she really know how I felt?
I wandered off in a daze. I didn’t have any where specific to be, and I just got on a public bus – any old one, I didn’t care where it was going.
Just get me away from here.