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  • dearabi

what goes up, must come down.

“I care for you a lot, and that’s why I don’t want to hurt you. I just need time to do me. This is what’s best for the both of us. If we get back together, then we’ll know it was meant to be”. Those were the last words he said before he kissed her on the forehead and left her crying on her front doorstep. 

Week 1 isn’t too bad, because there’s still hope that it was just a silly misunderstanding. Something he decided on a whim, and will regret just as soon as he realizes it was a mistake. So every time her phone lights up, so do her eyes at the thought of it being him. She even keeps all of their photos up on Instagram, because it’s still too early to tell if it’s permanent. It’s not a break up – it’s just a break she thinks. She goes about her days as if nothing’s happened and when her girls ask how he is, she replies “Fine”. 

Week 2 and 3 however, she isn’t fine. She starts texting him to get some closure, but he always changes the subject. And he only returns her texts on Tuesday nights – maybe a Sunday afternoon while he’s visiting his mom. But come the weekend, and it’s radio silent. Well, except for that one time after the club where he came over to “talk”. In the moment she went with it despite knowing it was a bad idea, because she knew that if he was sleeping with her that night, he wasn’t sleeping with someone else. The next day he left before she woke up and texted her, “Sorry”. 

After a month and some change of sulking and bad decisions, she finally goes out and does something fun. She accompanies her friend to a work happy hour disguised as a ploy to introduce her to a cute co-worker. He’s 6’2″ and looks like could be Idris Elba’s cousin. He’s not cute – he’s FINE. She’s not ready for a relationship, but she’s ready to finally have some fun. To finally feel normal again. 9:45pm het gets her a beer. 10:17pm he’s teaching her how to play shuffleboard. 10:55pm they’re taking a shot together. 11:30pm they move to another bar. 12:37am they take a group photo and Idris Elba 2.0 puts his arm around her shoulders as a friendly gesture. 1:03am she goes home. 1:30am she posts the photo. 1:34am he likes her photo. 1:37am he texts her, “WYD?”

The next day he wakes up and checks his phone to find … nothing from her. Just a text from his boy making sure he got home OK, and three texts from the girl he fucked two weeks ago and won’t leave him alone. But nothing from HER. No reply. No missed call. She didn’t even look at his IG story. Instead, he looks at hers. No story – just that photo of her from last night with her pretty smile. Did she do something to her hair? Hmm, she’s showing cleavage – I thought she hates showing cleavage? And who the fuck is that guy? Dammit, he’s pretty handsome. I guess. Must be her friend’s co-worker. Man, fuck her ho ass friends. Suddenly, one of his boys texts him, “Get ready, we’re going to a day party”. Tired and exasperated he begrudgingly gets out of bed to take a shower. Man, fuck my ho ass friends. 

Week 5 and 6 are rough. He’s tired from work and basketball and clubbing and day parties and the bottle service chick that he almost cheated on his girlfriend with and finally gave the business to. He missed coming home to dinner. He missed picking her up from work. He missed her encouragement and support. Her brain and her head. He missed being comfortable, which was ironic considering he used that as an excuse to break up to begin with. Most of all, he couldn’t stand the thought of her being happy with someone else. Touching someone else. Loving someone else. He looks back at his phone to see 6 consecutive blue boxes in a row, then 1 short reply saying “OK”. He deserved the abruptness for accusing her of going off and fucking someone just because she didn’t want to talk.

Week 7 he feels like a simp from replying to her IG stories to only receive a “seen” confirmation in return. His pride is hurt from being left on read then seeing her comment on someone’s post just a few minutes after. He’s tired of hearing about how good she looks from one of his friends that saw her at the gym. He didn’t even have the heart to tell her old-corker they were no longer together when he ran into him. 

Week 8 he can no longer take it and sends the dreaded, “Please, I just need some closure and I’ll never bother you again text”. She rejects dinner, but agrees to meet at Philz for coffee. He gets there first and already has a mint mojito waiting for her. She definitely did something to her hair, but asides from that she looks just as he remembers her – except more beautiful. He gets up to give her a kiss, but she grabs the coffee and gives him a hug. She’s kind and polite, except for checking her Apple watch when it goes off almost on cue. She smiles. 

“I care for you a lot, and that’s why I don’t want to hurt you. I just need time to do me. This is what’s best for the both of us. If we get back together, then we’ll know it was meant to be”. Those were the last words she said before she kissed him on the cheek and left. Without her coffee.  

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