Until We Meet Again

31. i don't have a problem

I don't know if I should root for her loudly or just stay quiet. Friends support each other. Friends are supposed to cheer each other on. We are friends.

But I just want to throw a tantrum about how unfair this all is. Like a child.

She's not mine and she never will be. She's dating someone else, someone who apparently understands her more. But I still think I can love her more.

And damn, I know I just agreed to this new friendship but she won't stop talking about her new girlfriend. It's intentional, and it's just making me feel like shit. She can't stop talking about how perfect she is.

Every feature she has that I lack.

Everything and everyone around me is continuing on, including her. But not me, I'm just stuck there. I'm glued to that hard seat and under the strong stare of my ex-girlfriend.

She knows how to hurt me. She knows my insecurities. She knows that I would never actually want to be given this much detail about someone she's with that isn't me.

This isn't fair. We both know that.

So, she knows my weaknesses, but I also know hers.

I decide to speak up after she says that it's nice to be dating again, and I tell her, "yeah, it is I guess. I think I prefer not dating anyone though."

"Oh?"

She wants me to explain, and I gladly do because I know I'll finally get my turn to make her feel like shit. "Do you remember Augustine from middle school?"

"Oh yeah, the blonde one, right?"

I nod, though I already know that she knows who I'm talking about. I can see that awareness in her bold brown eyes, and the realization is starting to take away her smile. That only makes me happier.

"We broke up a while ago, but we're not just friends now. It's nice, you know? No commitments. No trouble. No drama."

I obviously won't let her know that there's absolutely nothing between us now. It'll hurt her more if she thinks that we're involved with each other in other ways. And I just want her to be hurting like I am.

"Nice," is all she says.

She looks down at her phone, and is about to show me something, probably her precious girlfriend, but I decide to keep talking. Just like her.

"It really is nice. She's been flying down here every two weeks and I count down to her arrival every time. Dating people is useless, and she agrees. Our arrangement works. . .  really works for me."

I place extra emphasis on 'really,' because I know it just makes it harder for her to hear. I'm being ridiculous with my words, but I'm also obsessed with the effect they must have on her. If we're all about talking about our love lives, then I should be able to also. And my words accomplish one of my goals since she asks me, "you don't actually think that dating is useless, right?"

Oh right.

If I say it's useless then I'm completely destroying the significance of our short-lived relationship to her. I'll hurt her with that.

"Dating is useless, honestly. It's only ever been a pure waste of time to me."

Now, all of her attention is on me.

"Do you mean that?" She asks me.

She wants me to deny it now. She wants me to restore faith in our dead relationship and what it once was.

Well, it was nothing.

Why should I tell her I care when she never cared enough back then to put up a fight for us? It's a question I'll never ask and never know enough about.

"Yes."

"Why?"

She's practically asking to be hurt even more.

"I could never care about anyone enough to actually want to date them for more than a few months. I get bored of people. That's why my arrangement with Augustine works, I don't have to deal with her and all her flaws all the time. I don't ever have to act like I give a fuck about her life."

She's silent for a second before she swipes out of the photo that she was likely about to show me, and puts her phone face down. "I'm sorry to hear that you feel that way."

"I'm not," I say with a bright smile.

I could hate myself for this, but I don't think I will. She should feel bad just like I have been for the past month.

"I think I have to go," she responds. "I-I-I have a doctor's appointment."

Well, that was the final thread for her. I just pulled her apart in two seconds and now she's leaving me here again. That was quick.

She frantically grabs all her things, and shoves her wallet and phone into her small black shoulder bag. She makes it out so quickly that I barely get to see the shadow of her figure before it's covered by the leftover clouds of the mess I made.

I know what I did was wrong. It's not like she wasn't hurting me in another way though. She just tried to be more subtle and I refused to accept that. I could have kept holding onto nothing or done something about her words myself.

Besides, she'll just get to go talk about how I made her feel with her perfect girlfriend.

Who will I talk to? Who will kiss me and comfort me? Who will ever make me feel so loved like she did?

I know I'm bitter.

I know I've just made sure that we'll never find our way back to each other. It's on me. But I also know I'm tired of just shoving away those feelings just to keep everything calm. A relationship between Delilah and I would only lead to even more scars, maybe I just did what was best.

I don't have a problem.

I really don't.