Why Picking Up Your Ex’s Phone Call At 5 AM Doesn’t Always Go As Planned

I was sipping my fifth glass of wine writing my paper when you called. You and I don’t talk on regular basis, anymore. Once we used to but until today, it has been 1.5 years since your number last flashed on my phone. For a good 3 seconds I wanted to ignore the call but my curiosity got the better of me. You asked me if you could come over. I don’t entertain house calls from ex’s at 5 in the morning but you sounded desperate.

No ‘how are you’ or ‘its been a while since I saw you’, you were direct, just as I like it and you remembered or maybe you were too drunk to give a fuck. I will believe the former because I am a narcissist and because when you walked in, you didn’t stumble.

Not that I could notice much because of my side lamp being dim and because I was trying hard to pretend like I didn’t want you here. You sat down on my spare mattress laid across the bed with a familiarity that made me uncomfortable. And after a few seconds, you seemed fidgety too.

You had the look of regret etched on your eyebrows and I could tell that you knew coming to me was a wrong course of action, just like I knew answering midnight calls from ex’s is asking for trouble.

I am not sure when you began talking because I was too busy trying to find my lighter so I could continue ignoring you. “She’s cheating on me… I mean, she was… all this time,” you said and I wondered what it is you wanted me to say. I am sorry maybe? But for what? I am not even sure why talking about the girl you cheated on me with, cheating back at you is like even a good idea. Even for being pathetically obtuse, this was a dumb move on your part; one I am not sure how I am to suppose to react to.

“You heard me? That bitch …” you were about to repeat a conversation I wanted no part of again.

“Yup” I said a little too harshly but I guess it was better than saying karma smacked you in the arse, you bastard. I bite my tongue a little too harshly waiting for you to say something… anything else to erase the awkwardness you bought into my bedroom even before the sunrise.

“You knew about it?”

I wish! No seriously I wish I did so I could take back the tears of not being enough for you! I considered saying that out loud but then remembered that I was trying to be a supportive friend. I knew the pain of being cheated on and even if it was curtsey you, I wasn’t going to be heartless. At least not externally and at least not when you are on the verge of tears.

I was really trying here and after pouring my sixth glass from the second bottle and lighting my cigarette, I was calm again.

It felt like a tap on my back from you when I realized I hadn’t answered you and you were waiting impatiently for one. I didn’t prolong your misery any further.

“No”

There was a silence that continued and I sipped on my wine waiting for you to say something. It wasn’t uncomfortable or even sad; it was just silent. In a way conversations with old friends that you don’t know what to say to but you have so much to say and don’t know where to begin and where to end. So I just remained quite and hope that it was not rude.

In a way I am not sure silence between ex’s who ended on a bad note should be like this but maybe this is the mega last conversation and what happen last year was end for now until we end it later. I am not sure and I thought I had my surety with you after all this time.

“Say something” you said.

I thought about the weather, I could say how cold it was and we could talk about it for a few minutes. I could ask about your classes but you didn’t come here for this.

“I am sorry,” I said. You looked at me funny and then laughed. I am not sure why you did but I was too drunk to worry about it.

“Pass me the bottle”

You hate wine and for you to ask me this is desperation reaching the roof top. I tightly screw the cork and threw the bottle near you. You drink straight from the bottle and I sip my wine, looking ahead. You were starring at my bed frame and on any other given moment I would say it was your twisted way of looking at my legs. Not today.

“I will bash up the guy she’s screwing and everyone who knew about it and never fucking told me”

The first thought that occurred in my head was lol. Like seriously, I need to stop using it so much. Much later I realized you really would do this and I should stop you. I mean I should kick you out and agreeing with you would be a quicker way to achieve that, so maybe not.

“If that will make you feel better, go ahead”

I would like to blame the wine but even then I know this was not what I should have said because it will make you feel better and you will go ahead and I should stop you. I just couldn’t generate enough emotions or even energy to argue your point.

“It will. All I can see is that bitch in his arms and it’s killing me. I will kill that bastard and then I will kill her”

I realized you won’t touch her but you might as well kill him and since it’s against the law, I would hate to be your alibi. Why were you telling me all this anyway? Don’t guys have like macho best friends with whiskey waiting for situations like this?

“Will it help”

“Obviously”

My bad, I forgot for a second that you weren’t obtuse. So I rephrased.

“It won’t, she still slept with him and she still cheated on you”

“So what do I do?” you question me with pain reeking in your tone. I almost feel bad and then feel worse for not feeling more bad that I did.

This was a hard one because honestly I didn’t know. I never cheated on anyone before so how the fuck am I suppose to know?

“Wait” and you looked at me like I was getting up or something and so I lite another cigarette to prevent the awkwardness lurking in the corners. I didn’t ask you to give me a minute, I asked you to pause and think for yourself.

“Tell me”

“Wait for her to realize that she lost a person who actually loves her, like patiently with all your killing instincts in your pockets and cussing messages aside.”

“How will that help?”

I wanted to ask you how coming to me and asking me all this is helping because I genuinely don’t know. How is anything supposed to help a bruised heart?

“It won’t. It would suck like a motherfucker but honestly she will expect you to attack the guy and the guy after and so on. She is waiting for it and in doing what she expects you to do; she’s making the rules here. Instead just give it time and I don’t know, give it more time. Wait for her to face her own karma.”

“Karma doesn’t work and you know …”

You shut up abruptly and I smiled a sad smile towards you. You are proof that it does work and even though it was a long wait, karma did strike. You looked up from the bed frame and smiled a sadder smile back at me. I smiled some more and it felt like a sad smile contest, so I instead started looking at my phone. The light made my eyes squint and I kept it aside after checking my snapchat.

“What if he is the one for her and I am not as lucky as you?”

I released a heavy breath and gave up putting logic into your thick skull. I felt the same way and there was no use denying that but to call me lucky was pushing it. I wasn’t lucky back then and I am hell not lucky watching you suffer. Just because I don’t feel any love for you doesn’t mean I would want to see you unhappy. Not because I am a saint or some kind of martyr but because the kind of feeling involved with being happy over somebody you once loved’s grief is too morbid a baggage to carry. I let you ago a long time ago and seeing you suffer makes me feel bad for ever wishing that kind of fate on you. And I did pray for a similar fate for you but I stopped a long while ago.

“Nobody is lucky enough to escape karma my love and it will strike. I promise you it will strike when the moment is right and only then will it break her. Right now the blow is not good enough to even bend her and there is no point striking right now”

I know I was blabbering but I honestly just wanted to not see your sad face and feel guilty over wishing such a fate on you. I felt like I was responsible and I didn’t want any part in this anymore.

You got up and placed the empty bottle near my side table and there was an awkward should I get up for a hug or not moment but you waved a goodbye and I smiled, so I guess it was salvaged.

Whatever we had that needs to be salvaged. You shut the door on your way out and I lite another cigarette and go back to my phone texting Hina. I could feel your hand lingering on the doorknob and I saw it twist before I heard it. That is a lot coming from somebody almost drunk, so you can give me credit for that at least.

You finally opened the door and I was glad because I was started to fear my house was haunted. You peaked from the door and looked at me, waiting for me to say something.

Nope, I wasn’t starting any conversation today or saying something that might lead to anything. I had to wake up for school and I don’t repeat my mistakes again.

“M?” you whispered.

“Umm?”

“Why didn’t you strike back at the right moment?”

I couldn’t say I didn’t care and get away with it because out of all people, he knew how much I had cared at one point of time. Until today I never even thought about actually getting back at him and given my innate need for revenge, this was strange.

“Because you can’t break what’s already broken”

He looked at me like he never had before and then smiled, a very sad kind of smile. The kind of smile you save for times when you realize something or maybe when you feel genuinely bad for doing something you shouldn’t have done. Maybe I was reading too much into your smile but after making a profession out of it, I felt like I had the right to analyze it. After being wrong every time with you, this time I knew in my heart that I wasn’t.

You shut the door and left. Not in an aggressive way you had left the last time after I cussed your family out but in a way that meant you didn’t want to disturb me anymore by making any noise.