Unkind

August 18, that was the last time I saw her. I was lying on the couch watching TV; Naomi was cooking; the door bell rang; I answered; it was Anna.
"Hi." she said.
"Hello..."I hadn't seen her for five years.
"Are you busy? Would you like to take a stroll?"
Naomi came out of the kitchen: "Who is it?"
"An old friend of mine, I'll be back soon." I didn't wait for her answer. I walked out the door with Anna.
Anna and I have never been, well, officially, "together". We got along fine but I never loved her. Perhaps I was frivolous, or we were both financially unstable, or I wanted someone more politically active, or I preferred someone Irish-Italian like me. I don't really know. I met her in a coffee shop in San Francisco when I was working for a local newspaper in the area; she was in town for an exam. We spent a couple of days visiting the bay area and Berkeley. We didn't get into touch after her San Francisco trip until seven years ago, when I decided to move back to upstate New York but before that, I wanted to visit Europe. Anna had moved to France to continue her studies I thus dug up her email address and told her that I was coming. My original plan was to stay in France for a couple of days and then spend the rest of my sabbatical year in Italy and eastern Europe; it wasn't a fixed plan though. Besides the two weeks I was in eastern Europe, I ended up spending the rest of the summer with her. I accompanied her moving around in France, taking different exams in divers cities and an interview in Berlin. We were technically living together for 2 months, until I was completely broke. I came back to New York after 3 months' of Euro trip.
"How are you? Are you still a journalist?"
"I am alright. I am working in real estate business right now. And I am living with someone as you know..."
"Don't worry about it. I am not here to give you any drama."
"What are you doing here?"
"I am changing flights here, so I thought I'd stop and say hi. I am surprised that you haven't moved."
"Just stop and say hi, after five years?"
"Yeah, why not, I don't hate you anymore."
It must be a girl thing. A lot of times when they say:" I hate you.", they mean the opposite. She was saying that all summer long. About a week after I left Europe, she suddenly asked me how I felt about her. I told her that I had never fallen for her and I was sorry to be so blunt, I thought she'd like to know. There was a short silence on the phone, then she said that she had sensed it all along but needed to hear it from me, and all this time she was saying:" I am your entertainment." she really meant it. "Thank you for your honesty, and now I need to go out and get some air." That was the penultimate we spoke. It had been five years.
"I am sure you don't."
She paused the promenade for a second: "No, you didn't understand, I really hated you."
"What?"
"Don't worry about it, it's all gone now. I just wanted to say hello and see how you are doing these days, after so long."
"No no, you hated me? Why?"
"I thought you were unkind."
"Unkind?" I was anything but unkind. When I was in France, I gave her financial support, helped her moved from Nice to Strasburg, had my share of cooking and cleaning the apartment; I was anything but unkind.
"Unkind?" I asked her, "how? what?"
"Are we obliged to have this discussion right now?"
"I would really like to know."
"You led me up to my heartbreak."
"You asked me to be honest with you on the phone."
"Hence the word 'led'. When we were on the phone, you stated that you didn't feel what I did. You knew exactly how I felt and you kept misleading me till the end: we shared a bed for more than two months; you paid part of my tuition; we went all over France and I was happy. But you have fooled me, you have fooled everyone around me. You remained inscrutable, proud of your "impossible-to-read" idiosyncrasy. I still don't know what your intention was, but you never had the courtesy to warn me that our feelings were not mutual. It was easy to hurt me, I was naive and sincere. For a long time, I sensed only anger. Did you treat me like a prostitute? Paid to have no-string-attached sex under the name of 'having a company'. Was I part of your package deal when you purchased your flight to Europe? I then was angry at myself. How could I let this happen to me? It was hatred. Everything turned into hatred overnight after that conversation. Maybe it didn't change anything for you because you never had to go through the step of 'move on'. Sometimes I wondered if you were ever capable of loving another human being. Then a funny thought suddenly came to mind: did you stay with me because you were doing the same thing when you were twenty years old with that woman in Plattsburgh? You needed a place to stay and to sort out you part of your life."
"What the hell? How could you? I had absolutely no intention to ... I didn't stay with you because I needed a roof. I was honest on the phone because you wanted to know, and you said that our conversation shouldn't change anything."
"Why does it matter now? It has been so long. I am honest because I thought you wanted to know too."
"It matters, it matters. It is unfair to say that I didn't care about you."
"Hey I heard that sentence before."
"I was sincere too." Wasn't I?
"Ok."
"Ok? Don't be sarcastic."
"I didn't come here to fight."
"Well, too late. Now I am intrigued to know, how did I become so contemptible after that so-called 'feeling' conversation? You can't hate me just because I didn't feel the same way you did. Love is not a mirror, when you look inside, it doesn't always reflect ..."
"I know. Trust me, I know."
"Fine, it is all part of the past now. But I still want to know what else did I do wrong?"
"It is not about right or wrong."
"You know what I mean. It is only a conversation. We talk about the past, which maybe doesn't mean much to either of us anymore."
"Conversation. Do you remember that after you told me that you didn't feel the same, you said:' but you will do this again sometime, with someone else.' I don't think it meant to be an insult, but I felt it was one. There I was, deserted in your mind game and while was still in love with you; you already pictured me being with someone else, as if the entire summer meant nothing special. And of course, I never wanted to do 'this' again, I never wanted to be toyed, or experienced such heartbreak again. I didn't want to be your fuck buddy anymore and for a long time I was not even sure if I wanted to be your friend any longer. You said that you cared, about my boobs or my ass? You said that I was 'interpreting' when you said:' we are playing.' Should I not? I deleted all your pictures, our pictures, your videos, our videos and I wrote you a 'closure letter' which of course I never sent out. I put the letter in an envelope, and inside I included the album project we had. On the cover I wrote:' You have hurt me, you had your fun and now fuck off'. I buried the letter under a chestnut tree near the apartment we used to share. And that was it. But people change, people move on, I don't hate you anymore. Consider some of my thoughts to be just livid monologues. Yes, there were things that we did were memorable and the things that you did that I felt grateful. I am glad that you suddenly fell into my basement five years ago, but yet, nothing is perfect. "
She smiled, I didn't know how to react. On the train from Lille to Toulouse she said that she would be the most fun that I was ever going to have, she wasn't lying. All the games we used to play in the shower; swimming with goggles on in the Mediterranean Sea; funky graffiti we drew on the bathroom wall; singing out loud during the breakfast and the album project: we made a 5-CD album with 69 song titles, including an overture and a reprise. She changed the album title from "A color-blind man fell into my basement" to "Falliage". I never fathomed why until three months after I left her.
"Beautiful foliage you have in New York."
"Yes."
"How long have you been living together?"
"About two months."
"Did you meet her in a coffee shop too?"
"Yes I did. I really didn't meant to have things turned out this way."
"Listen. It doesn't matter now. We have different perspectives, and I was your entertainment. I am mostly people's entertainment anyway."
"Don't say that."
"Ok."
We walked down the streets with little spoken until sunset. Absurd sense of grief rose in me for I became dwindle to her. I was lost in such a strange divulgence of myself: myriad things that I have done without rational motifs or unconsciously. I didn't hurt her in purpose, but was I really kind to let her continue to hold on the false affection hoping that she would never bring up this subject; hoping that I could be her friend-with-benefits whenever I go to Europe; hoping that she would always have a place for me to stay while I was vacationing? And why was I there with her? What was I doing with Naomi?
"How long are you in town for? I should go back, Naomi must be waiting for me."
"Ok, have a good night then. I am leaving in an hour to the airport. I am flying back to Frankfurt tonight."
"Have a good trip."
"Thanks."
"It was nice to see you again." I really meant it.
"Yeah, me too."
We stood face to face for a while. I wish that I had at least held her for a second but instead, I shook her hand.
That was August 18, the last time I saw her.