Some would say it takes me longer than your average geek to come to terms with my feelings. Some are not wrong.
My Christmas Eve this year was not the best. On that very day, a person I mistakenly took as my other half.. Well.. dumped me, to put it bluntly. And ungracefully at that.
But I kept going.
My Valentine’s day consisted of rented movies and cheap take out.
Still pushed through.
Our would have been anniversary came around.
A little tougher, but I managed to keep it together.
And then today happens.
Almost 5 months later, I felt it should be safe to check on what he has been up to since he abandoned me. I don’t know why I did that to myself. Boredom? Curiosity? A desperate attempt to drown out the hum of questions about him fermenting in my mind?
It would seem he has been re-kindling old “friendships” with a girl whose boobs remain too big for her to have ever been just a friend. I see little hearts they post to each other, inside jokes and one liners on his part to compliment her pictures.
And then I see a tear drop on my keyboard. Surprisingly, that came from me.
I would have thought any sense of pain to be dulled by layers of consumed ice cream by now. It had to be. I aimed to feel nothing and did all I can to achieve it.
Despite my unceremonious kick to the curve, we managed to keep a pseudo friendship going, some hybrid child of awkwardness and fake decency. I venture to ask him if he’s seeing someone or more specifically Boobzella.
My questions turn to accusations.
“I no longer answer to you.”
Bam. Just like that.
For the first time since my heart broke, I felt it.
I consider ice cream again. I consider chocolate. Then I consider dealing with long overdue feelings of hurt.
He is not wrong. He really does not need to tell me anything anymore. Our lives are no longer intertwined, there is no more “us”. Unfortunately for my ragged heart, I still live in a deceased reality where I am not a stranger to his life and Boobzella is most definitely not part of the picture.
He could have been kinder about my delusions. Let a crazy girl down easy. But then again, it would not have been like him to see the ache behind every sentence I typed that night, from “hello” to “you’re right, never mind”.