You want me to be a tragic backdrop
so that you can appear to be illuminated,
so that people can say
'Wow, isn't he so terribly brave
to love a girl who is so obviously sad?'
You think I'll be the dark sky
so you can be the star?
I'll swallow you whole.

- Warsan Shire

Something Gramps told me once before he died comes to my mind. "Don't marry the person you can live with, marry the person you can't live without." This is what's going through my mind as Aaron deflates in front of my eyes, the ring box still proferred before him. His shoulders slouch, and I see the hand holding the box start to shake.

"You...you can't?" he stutters.

I bite my lip as I feel tears spring to my eyes. I never meant to hurt you. I shake my head, my fingers knotting in my lap. What am I supposed to say? Give him the reasons why I can't marry him? I can't justify it with any rationale he's going to accept. I can't tell him that I don't feel the right something between us. I don't want to break his heart any more than I just did by refusing him.

Aaron struggles to his feet, closing the ring box and setting it on the table. He stands in front of me, hands clasped and eyes penitent.

"Did I...did I do something wrong?" he asks.

"No! No, of course not. You didn't," I say. "I just...I can't."

Please don't ask me why, I plead with him, tears in my eyes. I can't tell you why. I can't tell him that he's not enough because he is. He's more than enough. It's us, the two of us together, that aren't enough.

"Are we moving too fast? I...I can wait on the promotion and stay here longer," he pleads with me.

Part of me wants to accept this and pretend like the proposal never happened, but I can't let things continue the way they have been with what I now know I feel. I do love Aaron and I'm sure I always will, but it's not the right type of love. Maybe if I'd never loved Josh this would be enough for me, but it's just not. I love Aaron like a friend or a brother, someone I cherish and adore, someone I'd do anything for and I trust without reservation, but it's not the same. I needed Josh as much as I loved him, like he was the oxygen to my deflated lungs, the color to my grayscale. I care about Aaron, but I can imagine a life without him. It wouldn't be the same, but I could go on. On the other hand, I still struggle to live without Josh; a part of me constantly craves him.

I can't tell Aaron any of this.

"It's...I can't, Aaron. I should be ready for this step, but I...I'm not, and I don't think I ever will be." The words spill out of me as if I've been holding them in for a long time.

How did it take me until today to realize that what I feel for Aaron isn't enough? It's been enough for our casual dating, for visits to my family, for evenings spent laughing and talking. It's been enough for me to heal, but not enough for me to try to love again.

"What did I do wrong?" Aaron asks, pain and puzzlement in his voice. "Just tell me."

"You did nothing wrong," I say, the puddled tears now overflowing at the pain in his pale eyes.

"Then what is it?" he asks. "Is it..." A dark veil passes over his features as he realizes and I feel my stomach sink. He says the name with finality. "Josh."

Defeat is in his voice and in his posture and in his expression. Of course it's Josh; it's always Josh. Even though he left me years ago, he still stands between me and every semblance of happiness. How can Aaron compete with someone who's only a glorified memory?

For a moment I wonder if I've made a mistake. Do I need to take it all back? Accept the ring and make my peace with a future that isn't what I imagined it to be? Maybe we could be happy together, but some idealistic shrapnel of who I used to be clings to the hazy memories of how I felt with Josh.

"I'm...I'm sorry. I wish I could forget him, but I can't," I say, feeling as miserable as Aaron looks.

It's almost as if there's a third chair and Josh sits between us, keeping me from happiness, from wholeness. I'd hate him if I could for the ways that he continually stands as an obstacle between me and what I know I should want.

"Rachel, he destroyed you. He didn't make you happy." Aaron pleads with me, running a hand through his curls. "I want to make you happy. I'll try to for the rest of our lives. Just give me the chance."

I know the truth. I know that if I said yes to Aaron, if I let myself fall into the empty contentment of being with someone who treasures but doesn't challenge or astound me, we'll both grow to resent each other. I'll resent him for his unrelenting attempts to make me feel something I'm not sure I can anymore, and he'll resent me for not returning his feelings. We'll grow old and bitter and apart. I can't do that to him.

"Aaron, I can't," I exclaim, standing up and shoving my chair way violently. It topples to the floor. "I...I can't marry you. I'm sorry, I wish I could, I wish I didn't feel like this, but I do, and..." I pull in a ragged breath, my rib cage expanding. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry it had to come to this."

I look down at my feet, afraid to look into Aaron's eyes and accept the weight of his shattered soul. "You deserve love," I finally whisper, my voice the wafting note of a violin. "You deserve someone who loves you as much as you love her, and I can't give you that."

This final whispered confession elicits a choked cough from Aaron as he swallows back his emotions and I try to suppress my own. Aaron grabs his suit jacket from the chair back and slings it over his shoulders.

"I--I should go home," he mumbles in a cracked voice.

I nod my agreement and follow him silently out of the restaurant, the tears drying in salty rivulets on my face and my nose running. My entire body shakes with the shock of what just happened. There's a battle waging inside of me between what I want and what I know is right, and I have to choose what's right for both of us.

I walk to my car and stand in front of it, the humid breeze feeling cold against my face. Thunder crashes above us, the sky stained gray with an incoming storm. Aaron stops in front of me, and I realize he holds the ring box in his hands, turning it over and over. We both watch it for a moment and I realize that this is it. This is the abrupt, bitter end. Aaron's going to move to Massachusetts, move on with his life, and leave me in the past. Because of Josh. Because I was too afraid, too scarred, too reticent to try again.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out again, like patching a bandaid over a gaping wound.

Aaron shakes his head. "Just...stop. You can't make this better, Rachel."
I know he's right. My heart won't let me love him the way I should, and I can't change that. I have to trust that this is best for us both. If it's not, I'll be the one to live with the regret, not Aaron. He put everything on the line tonight and he can move on without wondering what could have been.

"I..." I stop myself before I apologize again. "Good luck with...with everything. The move and the promotion."

He stares at me as if none of this makes sense. I guess it really doesn't. "So this is it? This is goodbye?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Deep breath. Tears well in my eyes and escape in parallel floods down my cheeks. Memories fly before me, the countless hours we've spent in quiet conversation and gentle company. How am I supposed to say goodbye to that? To the person who held my hand and guided me out of the dark?

"Aaron, I...thank you. Thank you for everything. You've been better to me, more to me than I deserved." I run the back of my hand under my eyes, swiping at the tears. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the same for you."

Aaron looks shellshocked, staring at me with no expression on his face but utter disbelief. "I...I don't know what to say. Goodbye, I guess."

He opens his arms and I hug him, pulling him close. My head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck, and I cling to him for the last time.I hate that I still feel a measure of comfort from his hug and I try to remember this feeling so I can always cherish the one person who reminded me that I was worth loving. His arms close around me.

"I'll miss you," I whisper into his ear before pulling away.

He looks at the pavement. "I'll miss you too," he murmurs as he walks away, kicking at a loose stone.

I climb into my car and watch as he gets into the car and drives away, careful to use his turning signals and turn on his wipers to ward off the oncoming summer rain. I slide down into my seat as the rain increases, drawing sad lines down my windshield.

I don't have any more tears to cry. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it. I sigh as I watch the rain fall, questioning every choice I've made since Josh and I parted ways. I liked Aaron because he was safe, constant, easy. That's been my life ever since Josh for the most part. I can put up with Tina's demands, Emmalee's neediness, my mother's overbearing meddling, for the sake of the safety net I've built. I've let my fear make me immobile, and it's put me in situations where I hurt others and myself. Just to keep myself from getting hurt again.

Suddenly, it all seems so pointless and unsustainable. I used to love writing articles for the newspaper, but now I dread going into work. I used to love living with Emmalee, but now I avoid going home. My lifestyle teeters on untenable, and Aaron's been the one thing making it livable. Now he's gone and I want to drive my car into the great unknown. I want to leave home and never come back.

I unlock my phone, knowing I have to talk to someone before I go delirious. I have a notification of a snapchat from my old roommate and best friend, Jordan. I open it and laugh-cry when I see a video of her, her college boyfriend-turned-husband Luis, and their twin girls jumping on the trampoline. I press a hand to my mouth as tears return to my eyes.

Jordan's found a happiness that I haven't been able to, a happiness I haven't known since Josh, and seeing this makes me crave it all the more. I close the app and send a quick text to Chloe, my other closest friend from college.

Aaron proposed and I ended things. Can you call me when you have a few minutes?

I send off the text and drive home on autopilot. When I pull up outside of our apartment, I can't convince myself to get out of the car and go face Emmalee. Even if she's empathetic and understanding, I just can't talk to her right now.

Josh. He keeps coming to mind even though I know I should be thinking about losing Aaron. I lean my head against my hands on the steering wheel. Did I make a mistake? Did I misremember what Josh and I had? Have I let my life go down in flames because of one boy that I loved too much? But I know that even though the memories have grown fuzzy around the edges, the feeling behind them is eternal. I know what it felt like to be in love.

It felt like being swallowed whole. It felt like jumping off of a waterfall. It felt like a never ending cycle of hellos but no goodbyes. It was more than happiness: It was passion, heartbreak, hurt, laughter. It was Josh driving me to the hospital in the middle of the night to visit my dying grandfather. It was me making him chicken noodle soup after a terrible breakup. It was the way I knew him better than I knew myself.

The love was sweeter and the heartbreak more bitter. Though I'm devastated to lose Aaron, I still know that I'll wake up tomorrow and be able to face the day. After Josh, I honestly had no idea how I was going to keep living, eating, breathing.

When the tears come this time, they're for Josh.

Across time and space, I whisper to him, I miss you.  

~~~~~

Do you think Rachel was crazy for breaking up with Aaron over a guy she hasn't seen in four years? Is it crazy or romantic? What do you think of Aaron? Let me know in the comments, and thanks for reading!