I Keep Waiting For The Call That Will Never Come

Silhouette of a shirtless person sitting alone wrapped in bed sheets
Ahmed Ashhaadh / Unsplash

I keep waiting for that call that will never come.

I’m still hopeful for a drunk text apology from you for breaking my heart. Someday. Not now.

Yet, I wonder why the Universe sent you to me in the first place if it was going to be so short-lived? I’m pondering what lesson I have to learn from this.

Maybe I fall too easily. Maybe you could see I was falling and got scared. Maybe you didn’t think you’d be able to handle me. But maybe the best was yet to come and you didn’t want to risk the potential happiness that could have been.

Maybe we will run into each other someday and I won’t care. Chances are that my breath will catch, my heart will freeze, I won’t be able to move, I won’t be able to talk. It will most likely be at the most inopportune time. Perhaps in an airport when I am already late for a business flight, sweating, no makeup, running to my gate.

Or maybe it will be at a concert where I am awkwardly standing in the back because my friends don’t dance. I’ll probably have driven to the event so I will be sober. You won’t. You’ll be having the time of your life expressing all of those emotions you said were focused inward.

Please don’t let it be while you’re on a date with another girl that I’ll never be able to live up to.

If we do run into each other, it’s doubtful that you’d even talk to me. I’m closed off to the world, so you’ll notice me first. By the time I notice you, you’ll probably have looked away and I’ll stop in my tracks and stare, turning a ghostly white. Someone will bump into me, go to apologize and take notice of my sheer panic and stop to ask if I am OK. I won’t cause a scene. I’ll say I’m fine and will my legs to move, but they won’t. Knowing you won’t look, I’ll have to ask that stranger to help move me and I’ll have to tell them in a hushed tone that I just saw a guy I once almost loved. They will understand and say that they’ve been there and assist me.

In the off chance, we make eye contact, you’ll hold my gaze for a moment before dismissively looking away. I’ll be so hurt that I won’t need a stranger to help me move. I’ll run. I’ll run so fast that someone will think I am being chased. I’ll try not to cry for your benefit. You couldn’t handle telling me in person you didn’t want to pursue me farther, so I doubt you could handle my tears.

I’ll guarantee you this though, I will never approach you. Inevitably, we will be at the same place at the same time and we will run into each other. But I will not approach you. Not many have had the capabilities of hurting me as bad as you have. I know it wasn’t intentional, but it was one of the top most painful experiences in my life. How could someone I was so smitten with think it was OK to text me that he no longer wanted to see me and block me from all communication? What did I really do to deserve that kind of treatment?

Life goes on they say. Time heals all. We live and we learn. Cliché after cliché. Life hurts. Sure, it’s not always happy endings. But this could have ended on a positive note. It didn’t have to end the way it did. What did either of us gain? I can tell you what I lost; Hope.

I have lost hope for love. For any romantic relationship to live up to the possibility of what could have transpired between the two of us. For finding a man that checked off every box that you did, good and bad, and made my heart beat incredibly too fast.

The most hope I have is that you’ll someday send a drunk apology via text. That’s the only time you showed any emotion when you were drinking.

In the meantime, I’ll keep waiting for that phone call that will never come. TC mark

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