Two Apologies Can’t Count

When life is rough, we look upon those who comfort us most for help and kindness. We look upon them to ease the pain from events they had no part of. For Miller Joseph, there was only one who could truly make him happy, one who he loved dearly and one he’d go against the world for. She, on the other hand, was busy; she was busy in her world and with her life. Miller continued to call upon her and little to his knowledge, she did the best she could to oblige.

Miller was a victim, not a victim of any fatal exposition, but of society. It was enough to make him cry. Little to his knowledge, he transformed from a victim to an interruption. He became a rude interruption to his lover’s work, dreams, and hopes at times. Miller went on in ignorance of the rude interruption he had become.

To him, she came around every blue moon when he felt that she needed him. He felt that no matter how much he needed her, her work would far surpass him in importance. He knew it had to be so, but he still urged for at least one moment in time where he felt not rushed, not ignored, but wanted and appreciated. His dinners and other concoctions were no match for her work and dreams. So he withdrew himself away from her, almost completely. He found other things to fulfill what was missing.

With that, she grew angry. She could not reach him. He felt he could not reach her simultaneously. No matter what, they loved each other. When she came around, he subconsciously remembered that she would leave again. He knew she could not stay forever, he never expected her to or wanted her to; however, he felt removed from all things involving her in his expectation that she would once again leave.

Marie, his lover, had had enough. She loved him more than the work she had entwined her life with. She needed time with him as he her. She gave it all up for their relationship. She left the theatre and the stage and all she had known for a selfish greedy and needy boy. In what seemed to be the eternal drift of relationship, she told him. She called him needy and she broke his heart.   

It would be a misconception to say that Marie broke Miller’s heart. In fact, Marie had broken the hard shell that encased his heart. He felt horrible for the sudden realization about himself. But, in the same breath that was sadness, he was eerily happy. He, himself, had sacrificed so much in the relationship for the special moments between them that he’ll never forget. Now she had done what he never thought she’d do. So much time spent over arguing was reconciled. He knew that she would be there when he needed her. It was selfish of him, but true.

After what she had done, a hope and a fear were born. There was true hope in his heart that the relationship would be returned to the loving environment it was, but simultaneously, Miller feared that she would resent him for it. This fear was the beginning of love, for he felt that to succeed in vanquishing this resentment, he’d have to show her that her sacrifice was worth it. Miller Joseph would have to do everything in his power to love her fully and fairly and perhaps she’d forgive him.

…
Last night, Miller was warm and kind. It was something he hadn’t been in a long time. She resented him for her sacrifices and did not accede to his benevolence. He kissed her until she kissed back, he told her he loved her until she was coerced to accept the words as a postulate, and he fell too deep. One thing he realized about holding Marie was that she was so warm. She was as warm as that old blanket you snuggle in on a late winter day. Her lips were his hot chocolate and her arms, his blanket. It was so horrible, he wanted more in the most inopportune time. He backed away. She did not want him to touch her.

“Why are you so nice?” she asked.

He chuckled! He was always ‘mean’ and every time he wasn’t, she questioned it. Ironically, it was the same thing to her. He expected her to be away, thus he was mean. She expected him to be mean, so she was away. When she is there and he is nice, both parties get confused. So he laughed and tried to explain to her what he could, but treated her sweetly regardless.

“I love you.” He said, for the millionth time.

Even though they fought and their relationship was dour, they both wanted to be married and have a child. The deal of yesterday night was that when she could honestly say she loves him because she wanted to, he would purpose. He had previously proposed, but it was withdrawn due to the emotional implosions that both parties suffered.

“I love you.” She said.

“Does it mean…?” he asks.

And she repeated herself. He was awed. Unfortunately, that one time she said to him that she loved him meant much more to him than all of the times before.
Does it mean that they will marry?

Their special day, the 23rd of the month, was slowly rolling upon them. Time was slowly folding in, but Miller was struck with thought. July 23rd was the day that they were struck with love; however, it was the beginning of a relationship in which two people suffered for the period of two consecutive months.

This time, the relationship would be started anew, a new date, a special date in which two would promise each other perpetuated happiness.

“Will you marry me?”