17 Days Of Watching You Fall Out Of Love With Me

Franca Gimenez

Day 1
You asked me to cut my hair. At first, I thought you were just joking, but you suddenly gave me a look of a 5-year old kid who doesn’t want to eat vegetables and insisted that I should cut it. I remember the first time we met, your eyes were a miner of gold, marveled by my straight long hair and you told me to keep it ‘cos it cost an arm and a leg to you.

Day 2
You told me that you were sad, so I left my office early to surprise you with a box of your favorite donuts. Unfortunately, I got stuck in traffic. I told you to wait for me for a couple of minutes because I had something, but…you told me that you were already out with your friends and you asked me to go home instead. I kept my dismay inside the box of a failed surprise hoping that you’d be able to grasp it.

Day 3
You were happy. You were happy because you finally finished the series that you were binge watching. You were happy because you were able to sleep more than 7 hours. You were happy because you made a perfect sunny side up. You were happy because your friend was getting married and when I told you that we would get to that point; you paused and that pause was the loudest rejection I have ever heard.

Day 4
We did not see each other. The first message I received was a “thank you.” I was glad that you finally checked the gift I gave you 2 days prior. I replied with a message that rivaled Neruda’s poems about love. You replied with a heart emoji. That was then the last message I received from you that day.

Day 5
I asked what was wrong. You answered by asking the same question. I talked turkey while you ran a mile. I couldn’t remember the last time you answered in complete sentence.

Day 6
You spoke in fragments and fillers and verbal nods. Your “good morning” was a flat text written on the wind and your cryptic messages became harder and harder to decipher. It had been a while since the last time I saw your “good night” and lately, I had instead been receiving plain and templated 2-minute phone calls telling me to sleep early or just, “honey, I’m busy I’ll call you back.”

Day 7
Your gestures reminded me of the final days of spring—beautiful but fading—as well as the beginning of winter; cold. When we were together, it felt like a long distance relationship. We were holding hands, but the feeling was empty. I missed you. I missed you so, so badly even though you were just beside me.

Day 8
I cut my hair. I cut my hair with the hopes that it might save us. It sounded like bullshit, I know, but I ran out of reasons why you were aloof or why it seemed like you were half-hearted or why I felt uncomfortable with peace. I cut my hair. You said I looked better. That was a relief.

Day 9
Kissing became awkward to you. Every touch seemed offensive.

Day 10… 11, 12, 13, 14
We did not talk.

Day 15
I said sorry. I apologized for something that I wasn’t even certain of. I apologized for not initiating a conversation. I apologized for asking for too much of your time. I apologized for being not enough. I didn’t want to get used to it, but I didn’t want to get rid of it either, so I apologized. Please.

Day 16
We were together, but in between your silence and my loneliness, I found closure.

Day 17
We stopped talking and from day one until this day, I knew, it was over. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

About the author

Joms Zulueta Jimenez

He’s a minimalist.

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