Unspoken Regrets

I never realised I loved him; or maybe I did, but I wouldn’t, or couldn’t allow myself to believe it. I knew he loved me, however, although he never said the words. He may not have said it out loud, but I knew by the way he looked at me, and by the way he smiled every time I walked into the room. No one had ever looked at me like that before …

… I should have told him ...

We met on a train. He spilled coffee on the sleeve of my new jacket as he sat down beside me – hardly a Brief Encounter moment. I could have killed him. I clenched my jaw and faked a smile as he apologised and then introduced himself.

He wasn’t my usual type at all. He was scruffy, and clumsy, and his curly hair had a will of its own. But, as we talked for the remainder of the journey, he made me laugh – I mean, properly laugh. I hadn’t done that for a long time. Unlike most of the men I had met, he didn’t try to chat me up. Instead, he was genuinely interested in me as a person; and he listened to me, really listened.

Men don’t do that with me. They generally pretend to be interested, while harbouring their own agenda the entire time. Having had so many bad experiences, I’d resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t meant to be with anyone at all, I seemed to always fall for the wrong kind of guys anyway. But, with him it was different, I felt that almost right away. He was easy to talk to. He made me feel comfortable, happy, special. By the time we got off the train, we exchanged numbers and agreed to keep in touch.

Over the next few days we met for lunch daily. I began to care about him, and it was clear that he cared about me. All those things about me that seemed to put other men off in the past, he not only accepted, but found them genuinely attractive. Five minute chats on the phone always turned into hour-long conversations about anything and everything. I found myself thinking about him and smiling for no reason. For a long time I didn’t know how I felt about that. I had never felt such intense feelings for anyone before, and it terrified me a little bit.

Before I met him I was looking for someone who would love me for who I am, who I could let my guard down with. I wanted someone who would see the person underneath, with all my vulnerabilities and self-doubt, and not only accept them, but love them. I longed for someone who would not only encourage me to be the fiercely independent woman I am, but love me for it. So many men in my life have been intimidated by my intelligence, strength, and determination, only to walk away leaving me alone and heartbroken.

But, he was different. He listened to me, supported me, shared my dreams, and made me laugh. When he looked into my eyes I felt like I was his whole world. He loved me, the real me, and I knew that. I could tell him anything.

I should have...

I never did though, I missed my chance. He’s gone now. He was killed instantly, by a drunk driver, on his way to meet me. The last thing he said was that he had something to tell me, something wonderful. But now, I’ll never know what he was going to say. I’ll never know if he knew how I felt about him. I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. Now I would never have the chance to tell him that I loved him.