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life of rejection and so, almost subconsciously, I had put on my best impersonation of impassivity in an effort to blot out all hope for either of us. Watching as she filled up with tears, I almost felt the shadow of despondency draw its cold embrace around the morning. It was time to talk.
    â€œPaul, why? Why do you cut me out? I hate it when you do that. What’s wrong? Don’t you want to see me? Are you trying to hurt me? Do you want me to go? I will if that’s what you want.”
    I could hear the ache in her voice as the words tumbled out and it twisted the knife even further, but I felt helpless to do anything about it. Blind instinct would have had me struggle to my feet there and then, reaching out to her, holding her tight and whispering the nascent love I knew was struggling to get out into the light. Love that, even then, was becoming ever more desperate to declare itself. Yet I simply could not prevail against the desolation that configured the grey plains of my mental horizon. I might as well have bayed for the moon. Anguish bit deep, giving birth to a morbid determination to see this rejection through. True, I could still feel for others, but only just. And yet, in spite of everything, I still cared enough to want to save this girl from any further pain, pain I knew would follow as surely as night follows day; pain that would get worse the longer I dragged it out. It was starkly clear. I had done enough damage already, allowed her to get too close, too soon. She was starting to rely on me, just like Matt had done. Matt! His very name was able to induce a violent reaction within me. The breath hissed out between my teeth as the demon of guilt dug its filthy talons into my crumbling, almost surrendered will and I turned to face the wall before she saw too much of this new and alien hardness. I had no option but to sever the link between head and heart. Permanently. To this day, I believe that at the time I had no choice. I had to distance myself from everyone – family, friends and particularly Roz. And I had to start immediately.
    â€œRoz, I –.” How to say this? I shook my head distractedly and began again. “Roz, I’m sorry. I just can’t go on with this. It’s too much. You’ve been really kind, a good friend and believe me, I’ve appreciated your company, but I’m no good for you. No good. And I know I don’t feel, can’t feel, the same way you do.”
    My voice had grown almost inaudible, so I set off once more.
    â€œPlease, you have to understand. I’m not in love with you and I doubt I ever will be. In fact, I’m not even sure I want to see you again. I’m sorry, Roz. Really I am, but you must understand this can’t go anywhere. There’d be no future in it. Please try to understand. Please, Roz.”
    I had said it and the harsh polemic finally faltered and died. But all I had achieved was to draw a mantle of depression firmly over my own heart as well as hers. So, to mask the feeling still reflecting in my eyes, I remember turning abruptly and staring out over the veranda at the familiar but now strangely blurred skyline. Tears pricked my eyelids and behind me I heard Roz stepping back as though she had been slapped. Given the unexpected sting of the confrontation, she might as well have been. Too numb to reply, she stared at the only bit of me she could see. My stiffened back, which was trying desperately to shut her out, daring her to cross the divide. Biting back the tears, however, she refused to leave immediately, refused to believe she had just been summarily dismissed.
    â€œHow could you say that? You know we’re good together. And who do you think you are, anyway?” A sudden need to strike back loosened her tongue. “You were happy enough to have me here when you really needed company. You were pleased enough to see me then. And what about yesterday? Are you going to tell me that meant nothing to