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Natalya Montes

Short Stories

20 November 2015

Comfort isn’t Love

With my legs tucked beneath me, my thick blue comforter pulled up and a throw pillow
in my lap. I was staring out the window and watched as the droplets of rain as they danced upon
the ledge of my open window, bursting into a thousand pieces against the yellow paint on the
side of my house.

The air was cold and crisp, but I couldn’t bring myself to close the window. It was nice to feel
something, anything, even if it was the winter air that brushed against my warm cheeks as tears
rolled down. I should move I thought; I should get out of bed, have a shower, brush my hair and
put on clothes.

But…What was the point?

I knew I’d just get ready just to go wait at the train station. Stand in the pouring rain with tears
in my eyes as I waited for him, like I always did and felt as though I always would. He would
embrace me in his warm arms, he’d hold me too tight, I would breathe deeply, smell him and
melt right into his hug and forget everything.

Finally with a burst of motivation and a heavy sigh, I flipped off the comforter, swung my feet
from the bed, pushing myself from the warmth and comfort it offered. Cold air prickled the bare
flesh of my legs as I walked toward the window to close it.

Today I hadn’t the energy, physical or emotional, to do anything other than what effort required
in order to make myself look socially acceptable. A shower was too much effort, as was makeup,
after I pulled a brush through my long auburn hair, brushed my teeth and put on some leggings
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and a large sweatshirt. I grabbed my bag and keys, slipped on my rain boots and left the relative
warmth of my apartment for the cold truth that waited for me outside.

I’d somehow forgotten about the rain as I sat drenched in the quiet depths of the waiting room at
the train station. The checkered floor was covered with black spots of old gum, and the windows
were fogged with condensation. I lazily scroll through whatever entertainment I could find on
my phone as I waited.

I started to think about life, mostly mine. How it seemed to always revolve around waiting –
waiting for a train, waiting for a promotion, waiting for something to change to just make my life
a little bit better. I was the type of person who embraced change in order to make life better, but
it never seemed to quite reach that level of ​greatness ​that I desired. Maybe that was why I’m
waited here now, waiting for him. Anger and resentment were filling my mind: not the best of
combinations, especially not when it rained so heavily outside, worsening my mood.

There was no surprise in my mind when he had called, asking if he could visit. We hadn’t seen
each other in months, which was unusual enough for us, though was to be expected since the
move. We use to lived two doors from each other, and were constantly a part of each other’s
lives, but in the end I needed the ​change​.

A rush of movement caught my eye along the platform; the train was slowing to a halt. I slipped
my phone into the pocket of sweatshirt, left the comfort of the waiting room and stood on the
platform, bracing myself for the oncoming embrace.

“Petra!”

Two strong arms wrapped themselves around me, lifting me into the air, the tightness causing a
familiar and yet happy discomfort, as I breathed deeply, smelling his cologne, and melting into
the hug.

* * *
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Curled up on my couch, facing each other, my legs draped across his lap, his hands on my knee.
We’ve known each other for too long for there to be any awkwardness between us, we have
always had a strange level of ease between us, as if we had always known one another, and
always would.

But for the first time since I felt a slight tension around him. Months had passed since we’d seen
each other and in time I begun to remember him differently, I remembered too many tears and
too many words that had been said could never be forgotten. I realised there were too many
things that couldn’t be forgiven.

I leaned in closer to him as the soft music filled the air, blending seamlessly with the loud
dancing rain which sounded like little drum beat against the windows. I was scared to talk,
scared of all the thoughts that had been running through my mind all morning, all the frustration
of our years of friendship, all I felt might finally pour out of my mouth.

“I always feel so comfortable holding you,” he said, pulling me deeper into his arms. “It’s so
easy with you. I have missed you, missed this so much.”

He kissed the top of my head, “I love you.”

My breath got caught in my chest as three words so simple seemed to bounce around the room.
The caught breath turned into a sigh, I kept my head down, buried in the softness of his chest.
Those three heavy words that we’re said so many times from him finally weren’t good enough
anymore. And then, in that moment, everything I did not want to happen, the avalanche of
words, the cascade of thoughts came crashing out of my mouth carelessly.

“You don’t love me Steven.”

He took a moment before he responded, his body stiffening beneath mine. “Petra, of course I
love you, why would you say I don’t? Why else would I be here?”

“Because you missed me, not because you love me.”

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He shifted in his seat so that I was forced to face those wide hazel eyes, he frowned, searching in
eyes for some kind of understanding. “Why do you think I don’t love you?”

I looked away, knowing I would so easily fall into those eyes.

“Because what we have is comfort, not love. Comfort is easy. Love is difficult. Love is
understanding your worst, is dealing with your constant bullshit and forgiving you constantly. I
loved your worst and celebrated your best. I gave you everything.”

“Forgiving me for what? I gave you everything, too.”

I met his searching gaze through a layer of burning tears that blurred my vision.

“Lies don’t account for ‘everything’, Steven. I loved you with all my heart, I thought you were
finally a man I could trust, I could believe in, and all you did was ​lie.​ I don’t know what is...was
the truth. Why now should I believe you or even trust you?”

“Where is this even coming from?” Steven reached out his hands for me so that I’ll come and sit
in his aura of comfort. “I don’t remember ever lying to you Petra. You have always been able to
trust me.”

“I can’t.” I start to sob “You...” I paused “Every time you told me you loved me, you never
meant it. It was just comfort. I was just easy and gave into you but you never saw me as anything
more than just comfort.”

He was looking down at the ground, his face was still and hard. He looked up at me and said
“That’s not true, and you know it. Why would I be here, Petra? I want to be together again.”

“We were never together to begin with, Steven! That’s my point.” I could feel all my rage form
into my hands into tight fists. I tried to fight the words trying to crawl their way out but I can’t
restrain the emotions that built up over the years.

“You were off fucking every other thing that moved! And when there was no one around, no one
looking, that’s when you called me, that’s when you’d knock on my door at 3am wanting to be
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with me. There was no romance. There was no dates. I was just the person you ended up with
when there was no one else around. I was convenient.”

“You were never convenient.” He tried to grab my hands but the rage I was holding onto
wouldn’t let go from my hands. “You were the one I wanted”

“How many women did you cheat on, how many women’s trust did you betray those times you
knocked on my door?” I looked straight into his eyes as I said this, he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
He looked as if he was about to explode himself. I felt no shame in what I said next.

“I don’t want to be the other woman anymore, I want to be your only one” I demanded.

“You are the woman, the only woman I have ever loved!” He blurted out as his face turning
bright red and his eyes swelling with tears.

“Why…” He paused “Why is this hard for you to believe me”

He took a deep breath and finally looked me in the eyes, “You can’t blame it all on me. You
can’t call me a liar or a cheat, and blame everything on me.” Steven said through tears and his
voice was defeated. “When were you ever single? How many times did I have to wait for you, til
you were ready to see me?”

“Of course I dated other men but I never cheated on them!” I cried out to him, “I…I was always
waiting for you.”

“Well, I’m here now.” He said, tears falling down his cheeks like waterfalls.