L is for the Way I Look at You by Mariia Kukshyna

“I don’t think it’s working out,”

she says with her lower lip trembling, voice unsteady. Her big watery eyes aren’t looking at me directly. They are scanning our kitchen, wondering on the floor, fixating on her hands—anywhere but turning to meet my gaze. I would have done the same.

But it wasn’t like that two years ago. 

“So, what do you say is the name of this girl?” I asked.

“Lyrica. She’s my colleague’s best friend.”

“And can you remind, why on Earth would I say “yes” to this ‘double date’?”

The music in that God-forbidden club was stupid and loud, and we had to scream over each other.

“Because you love me,” my friend said putting his arm around my back. “And you know, Miranda would never have agreed to go on a date with me unless we both brought our friends. She thinks Lyrica is depressed after her last break-up and needs to get back on the scene.”

“Mhmmmm. Perfect,” I mumbled over my drink, eyes rolling. “A just-out-of-relationship girl with a weird name that I know nothing about.”

“Leon, please, please, oh-so-very please. Be nice to her. For one evening. I owe you!”

After a heavy sigh, I agreed. I didn’t mind being a shield for my friend’s happiness, but that day I wanted to stay at home and play some video games until I fell asleep. Hanging out in a sketchy club, meeting some heart-broken girls wasn’t on my to-do list.

Then, I saw Lyrica. I couldn't have recognised her as I had never seen her before, but I just sensed her presence. It felt like a spring wind, like an opened window in a stuffy room, like a first breath of air after swimming underwater for a long time.

“Hi,” she said to me. “Oh, shit. Let’s cut it. I know that you know that my friend set this whole thing up, and I feel super weird about it. What if we just skip the formalities? I hate first dates with their awkward talks.”

I smiled. I had never smiled so genuinely at someone whom I didn’t know. A complete stranger. But I wanted to trust her.

“Okay. Would you like a drink?”

Her shoulders relaxed a little and she sat on a bar stool next to me.

“Yeah. One whiskey sour, please.”

We spent hours talking, laughing and drinking. No uncomfortable pause. Just raw warmth of two humans connecting with each other. We sat there, in our own dimension, and we didn’t seem to notice how our friends disappeared, how the club was getting less crowded, how the bartender was scowling at us when he had to close his shift, and we weren’t moving. The time didn’t matter.

We went to my place that night.

And after two years of countless amazing dates, vacations together, introduction to families, and moving in our story ends abruptly.

“Are you even listening to me?!”

“No,” I admit, being busy with my memories more than the present moment. I already know exactly what she’s going to say next.

“That’s exactly why we need to break up, Leon. You don’t listen. You shut me off like some white noise.”

“Yeah.”

“I feel like you don’t even try to fight for our relationship. It seems like I am always the only one to carry all the emotional load. And I am so tired,” tears start gathering in the corners of her eyes again. She will cry soon, and I won’t know how to stop it. “Of course, you have your job, and I’m really trying to be understanding, but I can’t do it by myself. When you aren’t cooperating. I feel... Ugh. I feel isolated. Lonely.”

“You’re right.”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out the second later with a long audible sigh.

“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” says Lyrica with a softer voice sitting down by me on the edge of the bed. 

“It already does.”

She puts her head on my chest and cries. This time she doesn’t stop for a breath. Pure tears and desperation.

“I love you,” all I manage to say.

“I know. But it’s not enough to make it work.”

And now it’s me who’s crying.