Love is Limited

          Today I had to go to Liverpool for a case. I was instructed to obtain an order for the sale of someone’s house. A debt was unpaid and so somebody was going to lose their house. Do I feel bad? No. It’s a necessity for any functional society. Besides, it’s not like they’ll be homeless.

            I was sitting in the waiting room in Liverpool County Court, waiting for my case to start when all of a sudden I saw Laura Roberts walk in. She took my breath quite away, such was my surprise to see her.

            Many are the moments I’ve thought of Laura. We met over dinner at Lincoln’s Inn (one of the four Inns that all barristers belong to) about two and a half years ago. I was with Annabell at the time but for just that evening I forgot all about her. As soon as I set eyes on Laura I was somehow drawn to her. I sat beside her and we connected instantly. The evening passed very fast and eventually we found ourselves alone in a nearby bar. I remember that we were discussing the subjects we’d studied. She’d done music, English and mathematics. I told her that her pursuit of Truth was admirable and she denied it. She claimed instead to be a realist, interested in only that which was tangible. I considered her choice of study was esoteric, romantic, but she could only tell me that love is limited. I fought her on the point immediately. She encouraged my romance yet denied its truth. I told her there was no room for realism in love, only in life, and the she should never find happiness if she could not abandon herself to someone, dream. For what is life without dreams? And this led to a discussion of utopian impossibilities.

            Suddenly she said she had to go. She said we’d meet again one day.

            Now here she was.

            “Laura!”

            She glanced at me absently for a moment until she placed me, then visibly blushed and pushed her hair back from her face. She had thick black hair and deep brown eyes. She wore a black skirt suit with a simple white blouse. She was gorgeous.

            “Tom, isn’t it?” She sat down beside me.

            We spoke for a few minutes about our respective cases and then paused, awkwardly looking at one another and smiling.

            “You did say we’d meet again.”

            “Yes. I remember that.” She looked down shyly.

            Suddenly the court usher called on my case. I quickly said goodbye and went into court.

            After the case, when I emerged, she had gone. I asked the usher if she was in court somewhere. He smiled benevolently at me and chuckled slightly. Over familiar, I know, but I let it go. He told me that she’d been in and out of a different court room since my case started. I’d missed her. Disappointed, I checked my watch and realised I could catch the next train back home if I hurried.

            On my way home I thought a lot about Laura. Maybe I could survive on my own. A girl like Laura only comes around once every few years, but there she was, apparently living up in Liverpool. Perhaps I could get in touch with her somehow, on facebook or something, and then meet up. Eventually I suppose she might even agree to move down to London… At any rate, the point is: there are other girls out there. All over the place. Laura is even a more than respectable type of girl. Trained as a barrister. Quite the right sort.

 

*

 

            When Annabell arrived home today I told her I was prepared to move out. Last night we’d ignored each other completely and I didn’t feel like the angst anymore. It was time to deal with the situation. She took the news very neutrally. I wanted more from her, as always.

            “Did you hear me? I’m going.” I said. She didn’t react. “I still don’t think it’s the right thing to do. It’s still not too late.” I added. Whatever the confidence I’d gained I was still under no illusion, I was unlikely to do better than Annabell, and we were already set up together. She was the best option.

            “I’m glad, Tom. It’s for the best.”

            Then she started talking about her day again. She told me all about the crimes she’d prosecuted and even described in minute detail a random law she’d found to help win the day. Ordinarily I tolerate this kind of thing. After all, she was my girlfriend and I was happy that she was successful. But now? If she thought I’d be happy for her to stand there bragging to me about her job, when I couldn’t have her, couldn’t lay claim to her successes and be proud of them as though they were my own, well, she had another think coming. At this point in time, more than ever, it would’ve done no harm to actually have a meaningful conversation, show a little emotion. I snapped.

            “God. You know what Annabell? I can’t take this anymore. I’m leaving right now.”

            “Well that’s fine Tom, but there’s no rush.”

            “Fucking hell. You don’t get it do you? You’re like some kind of machine. Don’t you ever feel anything?”

            “Of course.” Her unaffected gaze betrayed her words.

            I grabbed the bags of things I’d packed earlier in the week and practically ran out of the house. I called Ed and he was only too happy to take me in again. In fact, he saw it as my duty, my destiny, even.