Post #6 of the “She told him that she loved him” series. So when is love not enough? When someone wants more than the other person can give, or wants to give… or when said someone won’t give that much themselves.
“I love you. Of course I love you, John. That’s just not enough.”
“What are you saying?”
“I have a career. I have a family. An entire life. You’re asking me to move across the ocean to the other side of the world to leave everything I’ve ever known.”
“I’m offering you true love.”
“John, please. This is reality.”
“This is the age of the internet. You’ll be in touch with your family, all your friends…”
“Not my clients, not my home. Los Angeles isn’t Lancashire.”
“What’s so great about Lancashire?”
Amelia folded her arms. “It’s my home.”
John saw that he’d touched a nerve. How to fix this? He thought about different values he could approach. Family. Friends. Not money. Not travel. Amelia liked being her own boss. She’d already seen the world during her army days and was happy to be home. Adventure?
“I just meant that there’s so much more to the world that you haven’t seen. That we could see together.”
Amelia looked like a chill breeze passed through her. Rollerbladers wearing sunscreen and tanning oil were what really passed by, along with dog walkers and joggers.
“Dearie, ‘A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.’”
John tried not to make a face. That was her quoting Zen again. John respected philosophy, but not when people let it make their decisions for them. “I don’t understand. We met when we were traveling.”
“It means to be patient. I like my world. I’ll see the rest of it when it’s time.”
“You’re asking me to come with you. I want our relationship to move forward.”
Amelia sighed. “I didn’t ask you anything. But I think I need to say something. I love you, but not enough to leave my life. I’m sorry.”
John turned and looked at the ocean. Amelia gently put her fingers on his arm. There had been a time when that touch had comforted him, but this was just… stupid!
“Let’s not say goodbye like this, okay?”
John chuckled. Not looking at her, he said, “I love you, too.”
They hugged. It wasn’t as nice of hug as he had hoped for, but it was better than nothing. He’d imagined hugging her with a glass of wine in her hand, walking off a red carpet. Instead, her hair smelled like tea and fresh-baked biscuits. Maybe she never would have fit in.