The phone rang. Knowing that Dale would call, I had changed his ringtone earlier in the day from a song that was an inside joke to a standard telephone ring just so I didn’t have to hear it.
‘Hello?’
‘Hey … you free?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Do you want to talk?’
‘Yeah, I’m in my room if you want to come over.’
‘Cool, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.’
I got up and groggily brushed my teeth and put some lotion on my dried out face. I didn’t bother with anything else though. There was no use in trying to hide what a wreck I was. I looked across the room at his hoodie which was lying on a desk chair. I grabbed it and shoved it in a drawer. I wasn’t ready to give that up just yet.
The second time I had woken up that day, about a couple of hours prior to Dale calling, there was no momentary relief from my living nightmare and I pulled my laptop out from where it had been buried in the duvet. A post I had written a couple days ago was flashing at me about how I’d be fine without Dale if things were to go sour. I knew it as well at that moment as I had when I first typed it. I was not going to be fine. I posted it, having had been crying since adding ‘I’ve been dumped’ to the end of the story. I highlighted the post in the Word document and pressed ‘delete’ – I never save them to my computer – and started typing
I put my phone into my lap as a suppressed sob came out. Hand held against my eye trying to catch the tears.
I wasn’t sobbing anymore, but tears steadily came down my face, landing on my grey top I had worn to bed and creating little dark spots. I didn’t want to call any of my friends, so the only way I was going to get any insight or sympathy on the matter was going to have to be through the blog. I finished writing and proof read the post through blurred vision. Reading what he’d said I knew I wouldn’t be able to change his mind about breaking up and wondered if I even wanted to see him. I mindlessly watched something on 4oD, but stared blankly at the wall mostly.
I had fallen asleep again when the phone rang but tried not to sound like I had just woken up. After agreeing to let him come over, I wondered how I should greet Dale when he got there. I was sitting on the edge of my bed with my head in my hands dreading the next hour when there was a knock on the door. I sat there for a moment, before getting up to answer. I opened the door and he was standing away from the door, facing down the hall. He turned towards me. ‘Hey.’
‘Hi.’ I went for a hug, avoiding kissing him. It was strange. He had kissed me on the lips after only knowing each other for three days, and we had never greeted each other any other way. The hug felt awkward.
He came in and I sat on my bed, expecting him to sit next to me. Instead he pulled out my desk chair and sat across from me. He took his bag off and ran his hand through his hair, as he does when he’s nervous. ‘I – I’m really sorry about the way I handled things yesterday.’ He began. I didn’t say anything, just sat helplessly propped up by my pillow waiting for the words that had echoed through my head from the night before.
‘I can see how this is going to go and I just can’t stand the thought of us falling out. We can’t carry on like we have been, I just don’t think it’s going to be good for either of us.’ I sat in silence as he gave a five minute speech on how he knows the way he gets when it gets close to exams and how he will one by one exclude everyone he knows in his life throughout the subsequent three months and that if we were going to carry on it would just end in more arguments and one, or both, of us getting hurt. Probably both though.
Every time he ended a sentence he would pause, as if to indicate that it was my turn to speak, but I had nothing to say. I just sat there, looking him straight in the face. Once he had finished speaking I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it again, resting my chin on my fist for a moment. I exhaled deeply and said, ‘I can’t justify arguing that you shouldn’t prioritise your degree over a relationship. I’m aware how important your results are, but please stop saying that this is what’s best for both of us. You know how you are, clearly, but I know how I am and I can honestly say that this is what’s going to be the worst thing for me right now.’ He looked at me with a pained expression on his face. ‘But,’ I started again, ‘I’m not so selfish that I’m going to sit here and use some kind of emotional sabotage to try and get you to stay with me. I understand that this is what you have to do, I just don’t like it very much. This would have been much easier if you had just said “oh, this isn’t working out” or, “I cheated on you” or, “I just don’t like you”.’
‘Yeah, but I can’t say that because none of those things are true. I don’t feel that way. This isn’t a reactionary kind of thing to the last two weeks, this is something that I’ve felt that I can’t deal with for awhile. I just need to, need to’ he emphasised, as he does, ‘do well in my course this year. My career depends on it.’
‘I know that, but you have to understand that by leaving it as this vague kind of “well, I like you, but I don’t have time, but it’s nothing that either of us have done” kind of thing that you are making it impossible for me to move on.’
‘Look, I could have very easily come in here and said, “I don’t think it’s working between the two of us,” but I didn’t because I don’t feel that way. I just know myself and I know how hard this is going to get and you have to trust me that it won’t get easier.’
‘Neither of us can see into the future, you can’t know that this is going to go badly.’
‘I know that, but I know myself and I know how I get, and I can’t risk hurting you like that.’
I rubbed the area between my eyebrows before resting my head in my hand for a moment. I looked up. ‘Look, I really, really like you.’ Don’t say ‘love’, don’t say ‘love’, I repeated in my mind over and over. ‘And I want to be with you, but like I said, I can’t sit here and pretend that I want to talk someone into being with me.’
‘This isn’t about me not wanting to be with you. You have to stop putting this on yourself, it isn’t as if I woke up and decided I didn’t like you, that simply isn’t the case.’
I sighed. ‘Does this mean we can’t have sex anymore?’ I joked.
He laughed. ‘Honestly, I can’t see how we can take a step backwards from this right now. I’ve thought about it, I have, but the fact is that we will still want different things and someone will get hurt.’
‘I know.’ I whispered, gulping hard to hold back tears. ‘I would undoubtedly just try and use sex to convince you that you want to be with me.’ I said in a normal tone.
‘This isn’t about me not wanting to be with you. I don’t know how many times I can say that. I like you. A lot. I just can’t see this going well when things start to get really serious with work and I just have to do this.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with being selfish. I’m just angry that I decided to date the one person as selfish as I am.’
He smiled, looking down at his hands. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I am too. Because this is … just … sad.’ I said, slowly. Then in a whisper, ‘I’m very sad.’
‘Me too.’ He said quietly.
We sat in silence for a moment. I thought about offering him tea, but really I just wanted him to go. But at the same time I wanted him to jump on me and apologise and say he didn’t mean any of it and have makeup sex. I knew that wouldn’t happen though, so I just took a deep breath.
‘I should go. I need to get back to the library.’ He said, reaching for his bag.
‘Okay.’ I walked with him to the door. ‘If I don’t see you, have a good holiday. Have fun at home.’
‘Yeah, you too.’
I squinted slightly, suppressing tears. ‘Bye.’
‘Bye.’ I knew he wanted to leave, but I hugged him one last time. Don’t say ‘I love you’, don’t say ‘I love you’.
I closed the door as he walked through it, preferring not to watch him walk away. I sat down on the bed and basked in the depression I had so quickly forgotten after all previous breakups and traumas in life. I don’t think ‘broken heart’ is an appropriate statement. I have to put my fingers to my throat every couple minutes to make sure something is still beating somewhere to circulate blood. It simply feels as if I’m empty inside. This has happened to me before, and I remember a male friend coming over to comfort me. We were lying in my bed, spooning. I could feel his heart beat echoing from his chest through mine and I wondered if I’d ever feel my own heart again. Earlier tonight I felt a big boom in my chest, as if my heart was trying to jumpstart itself.
Though I felt alone and empty, I also felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulder. I felt a kind of relief I probably needed weeks ago.
I still feel like I’m drowning, but at least I’m kicking my way towards the surface.
* * *
This song is as accurate of a portrayal of my life at the moment as I can think of.
* * *
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