I Almost Do

1

I bet, this time of night you're still up
I bet, you're tired from a long, hard week
I bet, you're sitting on your chair by the window, looking out at the city
And I bet, sometimes you wonder about me

There are nights when I can't sleep. It wasn't because of any caffeine intake or because I was an insomniac. I just had too much running in my mind that my brain wouldn't shut down. There were time I would lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and willing myself to stop thinking about the things that have passed and that I could no longer change.

My mind wanders to him, no matter how many times I tell myself that I was alright without him in my life anymore. It had been over three months since he called it off, saying that he didn't think we were working out anymore. Throwing away everything we had for the last three years.

When I did think about him, it would always be a thought of how he was still cooped up in his office, much like he was when we were still together, but this time I was guessing that he would have already accomplished what he worked so hard for- the vice presidency. I still remember the late nights he spent in the office without realizing, and I would call him out of worry...

Leaning on our bedroom wall, I glanced out at the darkness outside the window, holding my phone to my ear. I had called several times already, but knowing him, his phone was either shoved in the back of his office desk drawer, or left charging on his secretary's desk. A desk that would by now have been vacant for three hours already. I was about to hang up, when on the last ring, right before going to his voicemail, he finally picked up.

"Hey, I've been trying to reach you. I was starting to get worried." I started, my hand automatically lifting to my chest in relief "Are you alright? It's getting pretty late"

"I'm fine sweetheart," he answered distractedly, "You know how important this deal is. Besides, you know how I work better once everyone leaves, and when I get started. I find it hard to stop."

"Can you finish that at home? It's almost 11pm."

He was quiet, before a long sigh came out of him "This is really important, babe. I'm afraid I won't be able to focus too much on it when I'm at home. At least in the office I won't have the temptation to fall asleep."

My vision started to cloud and everything became shaky. I didn't respond immediately, which prompted him to say "You know how important this is to me, right? This is for us. Dad wants everything to be perfect.."

I clamped my mouth to keep from releasing a sob as I nodded my head slowly even though he couldn't see me. I managed to take in a deep breath before replying in a whisper "I understand. Please be careful and don't forget to take a break sometimes"

"I will." he answered, although I was pretty sure he hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning, "I love you, you know that right?"

"I love you, too" I said back.

"I have to go, babe. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Don't wait up for me."

"Good night,"

"Good night"

That was how our conversations usually went. He justified his being a workaholic as him simply working towards our future, when I suspect it had a lot to do with how he wanted to prove himself to the board. He has always felt as if he was not as respected as his older brother would have been, just because he was the younger sibling. When his older brother decided to turn away from the comfortable life and overflowing bank account that working for their father would entail, and chose to focus instead on building a family and making sure he was there for his children, he was quick to take on the responsibility. Since then, he had applied himself wholeheartedly to his job, accomplishing in a few months what others have tried to do for years. He was brilliant, that much could be said. But he didn't know when to stop and actually live his life.

His mother had long given up on him as he used to come and go as he pleased when he lived with them. She was probably relieved that I took him out of her hands when we moved in together. It just became a regular point of argument for the both of us.

I would tell him that he had to be more considerate and let me know when he wouldn't be able to make it home early, but he would simply retort that I would never understood what he had to do and what he was trying to do in order to make sure our lives would be set for as long as we lived.

Now that I thought back to it, it was nothing short of saying that I was ungrateful for the comforts his job was able to provide for me. I knew that we would never be hurting for cash. I made enough money to sustain my needs and then some from my day job as a financial consultant. It just so happened that he made more than twice of what I did and proclaimed on his own that he would be taking care of all the expenses we would have as soon as we started living together.

All I asked of him was that he thought about the people who cared about him. I worried too much about how much time he was putting into his job, and how he failed to find anything more important that it, even his family,

Now that we ended things - or rather, when I decided that I couldn't live in a relationship where I was the only one putting an effort into keeping it afloat - I felt that I didn't have to constantly hold my breath waiting for the next shoe to drop. I didn't have to keep questioning the security of my relationship. But there was always one thing that always tugged in the back of my mind: had he ever actually thought of me while he stayed up late in the office while we were together? I wondered if now that there was no one nagging at him to come home, if he sometimes glanced out his large office windows and longed to hear his phone ring with a call from me.