Redemption

As I waited for my coffee order at the far end of the bar in Starbucks I heard a familiar voice behind me. ‘What are you doing?’

I turned around and saw Grey standing there. ‘Preparing for a nuclear holocaust.’ I said, staring him straight in the eyes. He blinked at me, unamused. ‘What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting coffee. Just like pret-ty much everyone else in this place. I think that’s what it’s here for. To give people coffee.’

‘Alright smartarse, I meant what are you doing in this Starbucks. I never see you here.’

‘Well you see, I was walking from just over there,’ I pointed out the window, ‘saw the Starbucks right here,’ I pointed to the floor, ‘and thought “I want coffee in my life. Today. Right now.” And so I changed course and came into this very Starbucks, unaware that it was “your” Starbucks.’

‘It isn’t “my” Starbucks, but it’s near my college, which is over there,’ he said, mocking me and pointing towards his college. It’s nowhere near your college.’

‘Yes, well I do tend to leave that place from time to time and venture out into the big great beyond of this city.’

‘How are things?’

‘Fine. You?’

They’re shit. I anticipated him to say. ‘Shit. I have so much studying to do.’ Same Grey. Still complaining about everything. No longer endearing as it turns out.

‘Yeah, me too. I just returned a book to the library and I’m a bit hungover, but I’ve got to go to a barbeque in about twenty minutes so I thought I’d grab some coffee first.’

‘Why are you hungover? And please don’t start explaining the effects of alcohol to me.’

How did he know that’s exactly what I was going to do? I thought of a new, non-witty, straight-forward reply. Grey isn’t really big on sarcastic banter. Why did I ever date this boy for so long? We are literally polar opposites. I thought before replying, ‘I went out with my drinking society last night.’

‘Alright for some! How’s the studying?’

‘Eh.’

‘You’re going to do that thing where you wait until the last minute to do everything aren’t you?’

‘Most likely, yes. But I had a big project to do last week so I’m just taking a bit of time to relax.’

‘Just don’t take too much time.’

‘Alright, mum!’ I said.

‘I’m just saying. You know how you are.’

‘I am aware, yes.’

‘How’s what’s his face? Have you talked to him yet.’

Grey knew Dale’s name and yet never ceases to refer to him as “what’s his face”. ‘I don’t know, he’s still avoiding me.’

‘Why don’t you just go yell at him or send him angry emails like you always did to me?’ He burst out.

I was slightly taken aback at the underlying anger in his tone. ‘I don’t know,’ I said slowly. ‘I guess because I don’t want to come off as being crazy.’

‘But you are crazy.’

‘You think that because I use to yell at you and send you angry emails.’

‘I thought that before the emails.’

‘Do you think I should confront him?’

‘I don’t know. But I just don’t understand why you’re letting him off so easily.’

Because I actually want it to work out I thought, but didn’t think telling Grey that I only yelled and cried at him because I knew it was over and I could finally let out everything I had been bottling inside when we were together would help this situation. ‘I’m just trying to be more calm about this.’

‘I guess that’s good.’

I considered delving into it with Grey more, but despite his concern at the beginning of the breakup with Dale, I don’t think he really wanted to play psychiatrist to me and my issues. ‘Well, I should probably get to this barbeque … do you want to come?’ It was going to be all of my friends, who knew Grey, so it only seemed polite.

‘No, I don’t think I can. I’ve got to study. Thanks though.’

‘No problem, call me if you change your mind.’

‘I will.’

‘Bye.’

‘Bye.’

As I walked away I thought about what Grey said. I think with Grey I was more angry than I was hurt, and I was convinced that I never wanted to get back together with him, despite occasionally sleeping with him after our breakup. With Dale the last thing I wanted was to go completely mental on him.

Or so I thought.

The rest of the day progressed as such: I had a lovely time at the barbeque, laughing and drinking with friends; post-barbeque we decided that, having run out of beer, to go to the pub for one … which turned into many; at the late hour of ten o’clock I decided I had drunken enough to keep me inebriated through the week and left my friends to go home and go to bed; walking through college I saw Dale just about to go to his room; stopped Dale; talked civilly for about thirty seconds; then a row of epic proportions ensued.

There was yelling, crying, more yelling, apologising, storming off, phone calls, hanging up, more crying, phone call from a mutual friend Dale had called to get them to see if I was okay, then finally sleep.

The next day I sat at my desk, alternating between staring out the window longingly at the nice weather and working. Mostly longing though. I stared at the letter I had written to Dale earlier that morning. I wasn’t quite sure exactly what I did and did not say the night before. There were flashes of our conversation, but I had never been so blind with rage in my life. I can’t recall a time when I’ve actually yelled at someone that way. I’m usually quite composed when I’m angry, but not this time. I remembered most of what I said, but regretted none of it. I did regret running into him when I was drunk, as that’s never the ideal time to have those kinds of discussions, but at least I got it all out. Once it was clear that we would not be getting back together – ever – I pretty much blew a fuse. I think for purely selfish reasons, I wrote the letter just to reiterate exactly what it is I had been holding back for the last two months. 

Because I’m better at writing than I am at drunkenly screaming and crying, I felt a letter was a more eloquent and civil way of communication. I exhaled deeply, relieved that it was over. The deep sense of sadness had dissipated overnight, and while I knew a letter wouldn’t change anything, my profound feeling of having been ignored still stung. It sounds strange, but when we were fighting it felt like Dale was actually looking at me for the first time in months. I had been tip-toeing around Dale since we were together, trying not to be a bother and trying to give him the space he so desperately needed for his degree, I did anything to make things okay for him. Meanwhile, falling to pieces to a horrified internet audience, and pretty much anyone else in my life, except Dale, who would listen. That is not me. Grey is right, I am crazy. But I also stand up for myself, and amongst many things which were confusing to me about my relationship with Dale, my absolutely pathetic behaviour as a doormat was chief amongst the mysteries. As I stood yelling at Dale it was as if months of anxiety and insecurity were pouring out, and despite the tears, it felt quite good. This kind of behaviour, however, can be dangerously addictive, as Grey discovered, and I didn’t want this to escalate to the levels of abuse Grey received (deservedly, by the way – he cheated, remember?). The letter was going to be it. There would be no more drunken run ins, or fights, or phone calls. After my signature there would be a full stop to communication. I would not, and could not, walk away at this point though without making sure that every last ounce of regret had been put to paper, signed, sealed and delivered.

I read over the letter again. Poignant. Emotive. Critical. I carefully tore it from my notebook and put it in an envelope which I then threw in my bag.

Before I could dwell any longer there was a bang on my door and I shouted, ‘It’s open.’

‘Alright!’ Lad Boy said enthusiastically bursting into my room.

I shut my laptop and spun around in my chair. ‘Why, hello. To what do I owe the pleasure?’

‘You have a bike, right?’

‘I do.’

‘Good, come on.’

‘I can’t. I really, really can’t.’

‘Bollocks, get your keys.’

‘I need to work.’

‘You need to come with me. It’s going to be legen – wait for it – DARY!’

I laughed. ‘Alright Barney, fine I’ll come.’ I was never good with peer pressure.

‘Awesome. Grab your passport too.’

‘What?!’

‘Joking.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Dunno. Just bought a new bike though and I want to try it out.’

‘And I have to be there for this?’

‘Yep. Come on, let’s go.’

‘Alright, alright. Calm down!’ I said, tripping towards the door as I tried to simultaneously walk and put my shoes on.

We cycled out of the college and towards nowhere in particular. ‘Nice wheels!’ I said, riding alongside him. ‘Why the new bike though?’

‘I’m going on a cycling trip this summer.’

‘Nice one.’

‘Doing it for charity.’

‘You’re doing it for the ladies.’

‘That too, but they like it when you do shit for charity.’

‘Where are we?’ I said, suddenly realising I didn’t recognise anything around us.

‘Lost.’ He said, matter-of-factly.

‘No such thing as being lost, only being on adventures.’

‘No, I think we’re actually lost.’

‘Did you bring your phone?’ I asked.

‘Nope. You?’

‘Sure didn’t. But whatever, we don’t need phones or maps, we’ll figure it out.’

‘Hey there’s a pub.’ He said, braking suddenly.

‘Break time.’

‘Drink time.’ Lad Boy stated.

‘What time is it?’ I asked.

‘Don’t know.’

‘You arrrrrre,’ I elongated the word as if thinking of what to say next, ‘useless. That’s it, useless.’

‘Just a pretty face then.’

‘And what a pretty face it is!’ I said, pinching his cheeks.

‘Get offff,’ he said tilting his head away.

We locked our bikes together, grabbed two pints and made our way to the garden of the pub. We sat down and Lad Boy pulled a camera out of his pocket. ‘Smile’ He said, holding it up. I stuck my tongue out and he snapped a picture. ‘Charming.’

‘So you bring a camera but not a phone?’

‘Yarp.’

I laughed, then I burped. Then we both laughed. ‘So lady like.’ I said.

‘You are nothing if but a lady, m’lady.’

‘Why, thank you sir, cheers to that.’ We clinked glasses and finished our pints off before burping and walking our way back to the bikes.

We cycled around, laughing and talking about nothing in particular, stopping to look at interesting things from time to time. It reminded me of cycling around when I was child. Even though I rarely got further than a few streets away from my house, it seemed so vast and everything was an adventure. I knew quite well that we couldn’t be too far from college, but the newness of everything made it exciting. ‘Pub!’ Lad Boy shouted, taking me out of my head and back into reality. ‘Round two?’ He asked as we skidded to a halt.

‘Yeah, go on then. I’ve had enough studying for the day anyway.’

‘Thatta girl!’ He said, patting me on the back.

‘Ouch! That was hard.’

‘Man up!’ He said and took my bike from me to lock it up.

We sat on the grass in the garden sipping our pints. ‘So are you going to tell me why you called at eleven last night?’ He asked, looking into his drink.

‘Dale and I got in a huge fight. I’m kind of glad you didn’t answer, I probably sounded pathetic.’

‘I was asleep. But I doubt you sounded pathetic.’

‘I was crying.’

‘Yeah, that’s pathetic.’ I smiled. ‘I’m kidding!’ He patted me on the back. ‘You okay?’

‘I will be, yeah. And now I don’t have to be all ashamed that you saw me cry.’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry.’

‘Rarely happens. Last night was probably your last shot at seeing it ever. Again.’

‘For all I know you don’t even know how to cry.’

‘And let’s leave it that way.’

‘Seriously, though. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up, you can call me whenever you want. Crying or not crying.’

‘Thanks.’

We changed the subject and finished off our pints before heading back to college. Trinity had texted me to see if I wanted to go to dinner with him and Poppy so after bidding Lad Boy adieu and giving myself a once over in the mirror, I grabbed a jacket and headed back out.

‘Hey! How are you?’ Poppy said, greeting me with a hug and a kiss.

‘Good! How are you guys?’ They stood there for a moment. ‘What?’

‘That’s the first time you’ve said that you’re “good” in about two months.’ Poppy said, eyebrows raised.

‘Well, I’ve been better, but I also feel better.’

‘Good!’ Trinity said.

‘Did something happen?’ Poppy asked, sceptically.

‘Yes. And it was bad.’

‘Oh no! What?’ She asked, her look going from sceptical to concerned.

‘I ran into Dale last night when I was coming home from that barbeque we were at.’

Her face dropped. ‘Oh no.’

‘Ohhh yes. I saw him walking towards his room as I was walking to mine and instead of just walking on by I stopped to talk to him.’

‘Why?!’ She asked rhetorically in exasperation.

‘It went from “hello” to “why have you been avoiding me” to screaming and crying very quickly.’

‘Oh nnnno.’ She said.

‘Are you okay?’ Trinity asked, speaking for the first time. He’s generally pretty silent when Poppy and I start going off tangents about relationships and girl things.

‘He said he didn’t want to get back together with me after exams.’

‘What?!’ Poppy shrieked. ‘What an idiot. He is such an idiot.’

‘At least you know now.’ Trinity said carefully, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not that kind of statement would send me back into floods of tears.

‘I know.’ I agreed. ‘And that’s all I wanted to begin with! I really don’t understand why he couldn’t have been that definitive when we broke up. Apparently he thought he had been, but I very loudly reminded him of exactly what he said to me. You guys, I completely lost it.’

‘Good!’ Poppy said. ‘He deserves to be yelled at!’

‘He was a total dick.’ Trinity agreed, matter-of-factly.

‘I know. But I was full-on screaming at him.’

‘No!’ Poppy said in shock.

‘Yes. Not good.’

‘Do you feel better?’

‘Much better, actually!’ I said, cheerfully. ‘So where do you guys want to go to dinner?’

We ate and drank and laughed and it was as if I had never been any other way. That switch on his feelings Dale seemed to have so easily turned on and off had finally gone off in me, but instead of feeling as if I had lost something in letting go of my love for him, I felt like I had gained my life back.

When we returned to college I reached into my bag to get my keys, my hand skimming the envelope with Dale’s letter as I did so. I pulled the letter out.

‘What’s that?’ Poppy asked. Trinity had gone to his room, but Poppy lives closer to me so we were still walking together.

‘A letter to Dale.’ We stopped walking.

Her eyes opened widely. ‘Are you sure you want to send that?’

‘Pretty sure. Do you want to read it?’

‘Yes!’

I pulled it out of the envelope and she carefully took it, as if handling a precious jewel or something. I watched as her eyes skimmed back and forth. She paused, ‘What’s this word?’

I looked over the top of the letter. ‘Oh, “angst”.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘Sorry, my handwriting is a bit rushed.’

‘I like it, it’s very pretty.’

‘Thanks.’ She kept reading and when she got to the end she lifted her head up, with an amused look on her face, the kind you would make when you were a child and you knew someone was about to get a bollocking, a face that says “Ohhhh, they are in so much trouble!” I bit my lip. ‘What do you think?’

‘Well he certainly can’t ignore this.’

‘Is it too much?’

‘No! No, not at all. I think it’s very accurate actually.’

‘I really have nothing to lose by sending it. It’s not like he can break up with me again!’

She laughed. ‘You know this won’t change things though, right?’

‘I don’t want it to. I just want him to,’ I paused trying to think what it was I wanted, ‘know, I guess. I want him to know what he did.’

‘And to feel bad.’

‘Well, yes. Of course that as well.’ We laughed. ‘Is that wrong? To do something just to make someone feel bad?’

‘Will it make you feel better?’

‘Maybe. Probably not though.’

‘Will it make you feel worse?’

‘Doubt it.’

‘Fuck it. Just send it.’

‘Yeahhh!’ I agreed, and we laughed again. Nonchalance was much easier than anxiety.

‘He should know.’ Poppy said seriously. ‘I’ve never seen you so upset, and he should know.’

‘Okay.’

‘Okay?’

‘Yeah.’ She hugged me. ‘Well, I’m going to go put this in his pigeon hole.’

‘Do you want me to come?’

‘No, that’s alright. I’ll go alone.’

‘Alright, well call me if you need me.’

‘I will.’ She hugged me again and we parted ways.

This would be the most inconvenient time to run into Dale again. I thought as I walked through college. He was probably either in the library or in the bar, and I could avoid both of those. I went to his pigeon hole, which had some random papers and mail stuffed into it. He probably won’t even check his mail. I put it in the hole, but it was eclipsed by some other letters. I positioned it so that it was more obvious than the others. There. Bosh. Done.

The End.