“I’m leaving, Charlie.” Her fingers tapped the table top anxiously. She knew that the sound of her half colored bitten nails on the wood would make him mad. Her intentions, however, weren’t to make him angry. They never were, anyway.
“I thought you were going to get ready, salmon.” That wasn’t intentional either. He had called her “salmon” for the last 6 months. He thought it was their creative-couple nickname. She didn’t. “It’s 15 past nine, where are we going, anyway?”
“Nowhere.” her voice was inflexible. She wasn’t looking at him. “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. No one goes anywhere; we’re just taking separate ways. To nowhere. That’s what people do, they separate, so that they can go nowhere by themselves. They were already not going to a specific place. Now they’re just lost. And alone.” She always did that. Talked more than she should, dramatizing situations, confusing people. She didn’t mean to confuse, she meant to be felt by someone else, through her own interpretation of what a conversation should be. But who did feel Samantha Scott?
That was the time. For the last 25 minutes, she had been pondering. She had been sitting with both legs up on her plastic orange retro chair, staring at the black computer screen, which turned off by itself at the first 15 minutes. It had to be it, she thought. If these thoughts go through my head, it means that it’s done. Doubts mean lack of love, and that was what she always believed in. Her feet were cold. Her fluffy socks were inside the closet, on the other side of the room. She couldn’t get them, because she couldn’t look at him. Samantha knew she would stutter if she looked at him, and possibly change her mind for a second. A second long enough for her not to go back to the first decision. Her feet could freeze right now. Charlie had been concentrating on his tv show. Now, he stared at her with a blank look in his face. “Time to answer the questions”, she thought to herself.
“What are you talking about? Why do you say that, salmon? What is happening?”
“I don’t even like salmon.” She was never good at answering questions. “So you break up with me?”
“No. I’m breaking up with you, because I don’t know. If I don’t know, it means it’s not worth it. When I know, I don’t break up.”
“Stop talking in riddles, for once! This is serious!” Now he actually looked like he felt something. Terrified.
“I’m not talking in riddles! I’m telling you how I feel. See why we cannot be together? You don’t understand me. You don’t feel me.”
“I don’t feel you? Of course I feel you! I feel you all the time! When I kiss you, when I hug you, when we…” Now he was standing up. Samantha simply rolled her chair to the other side, so that she didn’t have to stare him. It wasn’t the time, not yet.
“No! That’s an easy way to feel someone. I mean feel me, actually understand what I am saying, and relate to that. You just don’t. I don’t blame you, but we can’t be together for that.”
“Yes we can! You’re mine, my salmon, please! It’s me! Charlie! Why this suddenly? Is it something I did?” Even though she was still sitting he knew he was crying now. Not because she felt it, but because he was being loud. She wouldn’t feel it, and that was another reason why she was doing all this.
“It’s not something you did; it’s something you’re not. And it’s not going to change, and it shouldn’t, cause we’re not supposed to work out. You’re going to find someone exactly like you, and you’re going to be heavenly happy, I know it. Because you’re one of those guys, who marries and has three kids and travels to the beach with the family. I’m not your salmon. Someone else will be, and they’re going to truly enjoy their creative nickname. I don’t even feel bad, can you believe it? I know I’m probably a monster. I’m going suffer, trust me, I will. Not now, you’ll be the one to suffer for now. But then you’ll be fine. And I’m going to suffer, five times worse than you. Cause what goes around comes around. You know it.”
“Sam, look at me!”
“It’s over, Charlie. I’m an asshole, go look for a nice girl.”
“I can tell by myself if I need a nice girl!”
“Then you don’t need me either. I mean it, this is goodbye.”
He didn’t say anything. He just stood there, with his head on his hands, sobbing. He could not feel her, but he knew her enough to know that when she decided something, it was for good. Samantha stood up and walked to the door. Now she could face him. And she didn’t feel anything but pity.