Two years. Twenty four months. That’s how long it had been. No calls. No hanging out. Nothing.
I was happy. Did you know that? He’s a wonderful man and I’d set up a life with him. A good life. I’d still think of you from time to time, and with the modern wonders of Facebook I’d keep up with your life - but that’s it. It was all in the past.
You were in the past.
Then it happened: one short, seemingly inconsequential text message: “Hey, how are you?”
You’d sent identical ones a hundred times before. I’d always reply with gusto; my texts full of smiley faces and exclamation points. Usually after a couple of minutes the responses would stop and the conversation – if you could even call it that – would be over.
But not this time. This time you were away from home; from her. You were at the Police Academy and you’d been thinking about me. You wanted to talk properly and “catch up”. That’s how it started. You were witty and charming – like always. I was over zealous and trying too hard…like always. But the conversation continued.
At first it was harmless. I was happy to hear from you; happier still that it became regular. I noticed we were careful to keep the conversation away from our partners; away from us. It was polite; formal, even.
Then…it wasn’t. We stopped being careful. You asked if I loved him and I couldn’t answer you. I asked the same of you and my heart skipped a beat when you said “not the way I should”. We started reminiscing in earnest and opening up about the things we’d kept locked away. You told me how I’m the one you compare everyone to, and I told you I’d always thought it would be us. You told me you wished you’d been quicker to realise, and I said “me too”.
It snowballed and now, 6 months later, we’re here: both liars; both cheaters. Talking, but never really saying anything. I spend too much time thinking about you; about us. I go home and pretend nothing is wrong, even though he knows I’m lying. My phone chimes and I hope it’s you – though it rarely is.
Who am I? Who are we? Is it – are you – worth it? These are the questions haunting me. Time will hold some of the answers, I’m sure. But the rest lie in our past.
So that’s where I’ll go: back to Day One. I’m going to use our story to find out the truth.
What we were. What we are. What we should be.
I’ll see you at the end. |
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