Her reaction was impulsive, or maybe it was justified. He didn’t call after that. He didn’t text either. He went silent. Then she instantly felt like she had blown things out of proportion. She could have simply reassured him that he was wrong. She thought it was only fair to call and retract her sentiments. He picked up alright but was dismissive. He said he was busy and hang up. When he didn’t call back that day, she knew there was trouble in paradise.
She called him back the next day and the same thing happened. She texted again and lashed out at him, giving him all sorts of threats and ultimatums. He didn’t badge. The third day she pleaded with him. He replied for the first time but not the way she expected. Someone should have told her to take it slow, to give him time. She didn’t. He was replying with one word statements that took forever to come and she couldn’t take it. She asked him to stay away, that she didn’t care any more. He stayed away OK and her problems just started.
First, she was at war with the man she loved. Then she was at war with herself. She pushed everyone away. If he was gone, everyone else could go to hell. But first she had a bad cold she had to heal from. She was in denial. No way he would leave her, he was probably just being proud. Until that was resolved, she wasn’t going to tell anyone that she’d probably messed up the best thing she had going. She felt bad that she was being mean to her contacts. When she received texts from strangers she responded with indifference. She stopped talking to her friends unless it mattered. She couldn’t be there for Sam, it felt bad but she couldn’t help it. She knew she was in a state where she wouldn’t do anyone any good.
V wasn’t sure what she was feeling. She was confused. She felt overwhelmed by the fight. She wasn’t sure if it was just a fight or a breakup. He didn’t want to clarify. She talked to her cousin’s wife with whom they got along well and was told, “you love that guy, V, don’t lose him because of your pride. Things like these don’t come around everyday.” She agreed. But she’d been chasing him for a week and she felt it was time she left it alone.
When he texted to say he would be in town V thought it was a good sign. Despite herself, she travelled all the way because she wanted to see him. She was going to apologize in person. Also, she missed him. And she’d not had a physical for more than a month, she needed it. From him. She got to the rendezvous, he didn’t. He cancelled. Then cancelled. Devastated, V left. If he didn’t want to tell her it was over, she would do him the favour of letting him walk. This time she was sure she couldn’t take it any more. Maybe she had started it, maybe he had. Maybe she had blown things out of proportion, maybe he had. Maybe she was making a mistake letting go. Maybe she was pushing too far, maybe he was. Maybe she was doing the right thing… Or not. But she had no one to ask. She didn’t want to run it through anyone. If it was a mistake, it was hers to make. She would live with it. V had learnt from previous experiences that when she took full responsibility it was easier to accept and move on. She wanted to stop hurting. She was probably hurting him in the process but there was only so much she could do, given he’d stopped talking to her. He seldom picked her calls. He never replied her texts and V knew there was only so much she could take.
When she asked out, said she was gone and she wished him happiness, he replied. His response was inconclusive. He wasn’t about to let her go. Maybe that was a good thing. She would probably listen to his side and decide if she could live with it. But he went silent again and so did she. Two weeks down the line he texted her to wish her a happy birthday. She was turning 23. Confusion galore!
Everything was coming back to her. Everything she did reminded her of him. When she cooked she remembered how she’d loved cooking for him. When a song played, she listened to the lyrics and reminisced. Sometimes she remembered how he did stupid little dances for her that tickled her. Sometimes she’d remember how he laughed at her when she sang. She remembered some of his jokes and smiled alone. She remembered how he loved creeping behind her and she would blush. Sometimes she remembered naughty things he said to her and heated up a little. She was thinking of him almost every second. Sometimes she felt sad, sometimes she smiled.
Sometimes she wondered if he thought of her at all. She felt sad. She felt confused. She felt alone. She felt lonely. She felt deserted. She felt angry. She felt guilty. She felt embarrassed. She felt many things that she wasn’t even sure of. There was only one logical explanation, she was depressed. V had always imagined that after everything she’d been through she was invincible. She was disappointed with her own self for being vulnerable and sensitive. She became moody but knew she had to hide it because she was now at Lydia’s and all that energy was not good for the children. She wanted to run, to be alone, to not let anyone see her go through the pain. So she hid within herself. She was normal on the outside and a cold mess on the inside.
She didn’t leave him alone. Not immediately. One moment she was loving him the next she was hating. One moment she was extremely sad the next she was elated. One moment she was blasting the stereo the next she was all curled up with as little noise as she could accommodate. One moment she was tearing away at food hungrily the next she was staring at it from a distance. One moment she was laughing the next she was fighting tears. She knew through it all she had to stop talking to him because whenever she did she made a big fool of herself. She’d became desperate borderline insane. She hated herself for it. And sometimes she congratulated herself for it. Sometimes she thought of how confused her thoughts sounded laughed at herself.
She quietly hoped he would come back when she was not being angry. At other times she convinced herself she didn’t want him to. So maybe she had overreacted and had behaved badly, wasn’t love all about forgiveness. She never doubted that he had loved her. However, she wondered if he still did. Maybe he had stopped. Or maybe all the love he’d once felt had turned to hatred. Or spite. Maybe he had actually moved on like she had asked him to. But in only a month and a half? Maybe everything had gotten too serious for him and he had opted out. Maybe he had wanted to break up with her long before that day, he’d once mentioned it to her after all. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was her. But she had to grow up. She had to redeem what was left of her dignity. She had to let go. She knew him. She’d seen how he was with his exes. He would ignore them at times. He talked to others though. She remembered that he’d done the same to one Vivian after sleeping with her and V had felt sorry for her. Vivian had pleaded with him to tell her why he was ignoring her. Much as V was the real victim, the girl who’s boyfriend the same Vivian had slept with, she empathised. She knew how it felt to be ignored without an explanation. She had taken his phone and had calmed her down. She had pretended to be him and had reassured her that there was nothing wrong with her and that he was just going through a lot at the time. The memory of that hurt her. She hoped though that if he had actually moved on and had replaced her, that the new girl would do her the same courtesy. V knew that was ultimate desperation, but she knew it would be better than nothing. She cleared her phone of everything that reminded her of him. She knew it wouldn’t happen overnight but she would eventually be OK. First she had to learn to forgive everything and let go. She was going to take it a day at a time.