My birthday passed, and you didn’t text me.
And I thought the whole world would crumble and fall, but it didn’t, and I thought here comes another dark night of the soul — or at least an ego death — but it didn’t come either. And I thought, fair enough, because at some point, no contact just becomes ‘it’s over.’ So that’s what this is. Over.
Fair enough. You said your goodbye. You said some mean words to make me the problem instead of taking responsibility for your decision — to soothe your pain, your conscience. And somewhere deep down, I know you wouldn’t break no contact with a birthday text, because that’s just who you are.
So the question arises: what now? No chaos, no doubts, no regrets, no more rain — just sunshine? No daily storm, with lightning and thunder? No crying on the bathroom floor at 4 am, choking up from century-old grief? No need for running, for hiding, for denial? Just peace and quiet…?
I don’t even know what to do with this now.
‘Our time’s passed,’ you said, and I guess you’re right, but also, this is not the truth; this is your decision. And the universe is funny as always, because I had to see you against my will, partying, living your best life, and I could see you’re fine, you’re happy… Must be nice to be able to move on so easily. That must be a superpower I don’t possess.
I could never because I’m thinking of changing my phone number just to make sure I lose our chat, so I never have to see it again. I’m thinking which country to move to now, where should I start over, just so I never have to fear running into you ever again. And I guess even there — in a foreign country, with a new phone number and a foreign area code — all I could think about is ‘what a loss.’ I’d think about the what-ifs: what could have been, should have been. What if I’d just been more honest, what if I didn’t wait three years to tell you the truth, what if I didn’t run? What if, what if… as if it mattered. The regrets of a fearful avoidant…
And yes, I guess you’re right — I’m “throwing a tantrum”, as you told me, but at least I’m capable of feeling things and saying things that matter, and what we had matters so much to me. Too much.
But you also said, ‘You’ll find someone better.’ And god… I hope you’re right about that, too.
And I also hope that for my next birthday, I won’t have to wait for a message that will never come.