I'll Be True To You - The Saddest Story Ever Blogged

Yvette looked up from her computer screen and opened the front door. Nelson stood waiting outside, one arm behind his back. She had to let him in. Sighing, she pulled open the door.

"Hi Nel. What're you doing here?"

She sat on the nearby couch and he stood above her.

"Yvette, I'm done playing around. I need you to be honest with me. I can't wait around for you anymore. Either you love me or you don't. Tell me." He looked stern but vulnerable.

She took one glance at her computer and felt trapped. It wasn't supposed to be this way. The note had said it all. Yve, I love you. I want to be with you and I hope you feel the same.  Love, your secret. There was so much emotion in that one simple gesture. Today was the day she would find out who her secret was. She desperately wanted it to be Lenny. She was physically attracted to Lenny and her dreams about him had taken her places that she had never been before. He was exotic and handsome, but she always felt disappointed after talking to him, like she was pining after someone who couldn't be caught, who wasn't supposed to be hers.

Nelson was sweet, and told her she was beautiful everyday. If only he was more attractive! He wasn't ugly by any means but he was nothing compared to Lenny.

Lenny is a daydream. If he wanted you, he would be here right now. He should have read her letter. She never put her heart on the line for someone she had known for less than a year. Nelson had been pining after her for nearly five. Did she find him less attractive because he reeked of desperation? Because he had only had eyes for her and there was no competition? Because he wasn't what she had pictured? Because he wasn't toned? What was it? She felt shallow.

Did she like Lenny because he was desirable? Because all the girls wanted him? Because he was a personal challenge? Because he was sexy? She shuddered as she remembered the times she had been with him and had desperately wanted to rip off his clothes right then and there. Passion. That's what Lenny was: sexy passion. Nelson was affectionate and sweet. Yvette had never been outwardly affectionate. The decision was hard. She couldn't stand to make it, but here stood Nelson wanting her to; needing her too. She was dangling him on a line and she knew her words would altar his decision.

"Nelson, I can't. I don't know how I feel. It's complicated."

"What is so complicated? It's simple: do you LOVE me?" He was getting angry. She saw his face turn a deep red and a vein popped out in his head. At this point, it seemed that he thought she was going to reject him again. That's all he had heard from her was rejection. She still felt bad about it at times; what if he was her person. What if she was making the same mistake over and over again.

How to choose? Passion with someone she knew little about or settling for someone she knew too much about that her friends didn't approve of. That should have been a red flag right there. Love shouldn't be based on what her friends thought. I've never told anyone about Lenny. Especially not Nelson. 

She turned her gaze to the book she had been reading. The writer's name had started with a Y and the writer's lover had been called Nate. Y and N. Not Y and L.

"I believe in signs, zodiacs signs, stop signs. Little things from God that show me I'm doing the right thing." She took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry I've kept you holding on, but it truly is complicated. I don't know what path to choose. I've been secretly seeing Lenny. You're the first person to know. I'm not sure if he even likes me."

"Are you fucking kidding me?! Lenny? He's my best friend and you've been dating him. Wow. Well I guess I know where that leaves us. If you have to wait on a response from someone else to help determine your feelings then obliviously the answer is no." He immediately went to the door and stopped. "You know, I never thought you were a slut until this moment. Going behind my back like that is total betrayal and I never want to talk to you again." He grabbed the door and slammed it behind him.

She was still on the couch where she had first sat. Could she have changed that? Was she being shallow? The questions ate at her from inside the deepest parts of her soul. She could run after him, stop him, try to calm him down. But she realized the truth was she wanted Lenny more than Nelson.

It didn't matter that Nelson would have been a good husband. He could have trimmed down and looked sexy. She could have learned how to be affectionate. She could have learned not to be so afraid. It was too late now. She had made her decision; she was waiting for Lenny.

Lenny hadn't gotten that memo. He let the letter she had written him go unread. It lay in his attic gathering dust never to be seen. He didn't come to see her that day, and he only saw glimpses of her at the supermarket, at the football stadium, leaving the gym. Yvette crossed his mind only three times over the next 10 years, but he had more pressing things to worry about.

Yvette on the other hand suffered greatly for her choice. She started working out more, eating healthier, became more worldly for Lenny. She wanted him to be proud to be her boyfriend. As the years went by, her earnest waiting turned into frustration, then worry, then disappointment and ultimately resentment. If not for him, she could have had a family, and children. She could have been happy. By choosing passion over fear she lost out on all the important things in life. As her feelings tore her down, she watched everyone around her live happy full lives. The police found her in her apartment dead at age 38.

Lenny had chosen that day to go see Yvette. When he saw the cop cars outside, he ran up the steps and rushed into the room where the paramedics were putting her bagged body onto the gurney.

He asked a nearby police officer where Yvette was. He hoped she wasn't in the bag. Please let this be her roommate. Let it be any one else but her. 

The officer looked down at the bag and Lenny knew he was too late. He cried like an acquaintance would cry at a funeral. One small tear after another. The fact that he wasn't hurting like a lover, like Yvette had hoped he would, was the final nail in her coffin.

She had made the wrong choice.

He shouldn't have waited.