I got your text an hour ago. The contents are not enough to share. You say I don’t spend enough time with you. You say I spend too much time with my friends, I drink too much….your complaints are endless.
I remember when I met you. I was with my usual crew of friends, you were with yours. I caught your eye across the room and was immediately smitten. I survived your friends’ inquisition and was subsequently enveloped into your crew.
I enjoyed you, I enjoyed us. Your ability to be a guy’s girl.Our first year together went fast, a flurry of stolen kisses and rowdy parties. I don’t know and can’t say exactly when things started to change. I got a great job offer and you seemed excited for me, for us. My new job entailed a longer commute, you seemed to be understanding, at first. I couldn’t make the commute to have dinner with you again on Wednesdays and my weekends with the boys became a topic of great trepidation. You stopped being understanding and started being that girlfriend the guys and I said we would never put up with. But put up with you I did, because somewhere in my subconscious I hoped the girl I fell for will reappear.
Now I don’t pick up your calls anymore at the first ring. No, I wait till it goes to voicemail. I wait to brace myself for the guarded conversation about to take place. You ask me where our relationship is going. I wonder when our relationship became a destination and stopped becoming a journey. A great adventure of sorts, where I stumble on something new, something special. I don’t say much but listen. If I am honest, I know in my heart its over. I don’t say the usual: It’s not you but me. I tell you exactly how I feel. I tell you, I don’t think I am what you want. I have stayed the same but you want more. You hang up stifling tears. I lay on my bed, tired and immediately delete your number, hoping in doing so I can some how delete the past year and a half.
I spend the next couple of months in a haze of work. I join a gym, hoping in pounding my body into shape I can take my mind off the hole in my heart. I know your expectations our relationship become more than it was is flattering for me. That I would become husband material just by your wanting it though, laughable. On the first anniversary of our break up, I was right back where we started: across the room with my mates having a drink and like de ja vu I saw a beautiful woman with her crony of friends; this time…I looked away.