Year 13

Year 14

So fucking done

A product of bitter laughter and sweet coffee.

Holding back tears. Trying to squeeze the pain away. She was wracked with sobs the moment she put the phone down. It had all been a pointless exercise. All the debates and demands and hopes had finally had no result. They’d been two deaf walls screaming at each other. Her standards versus his stubborn flaws in a tragic, painful shouting match. She had demanded several things of him, but she’d just wanted his unconditional love. And now, she’d figured it out with a wave of bitterness: he didn’t even speak her language! He didn’t understand one fucking thing she’d said. All her love, her words, her explanations had gone to waste. How was she going to be happy now?

Hugging her knees one last time, she stood up. This was the end. This was terrible. But at least it had ended, right? She could put it behind her now. Finally, to move on. That would be her aim. She would forget about him, she knew it in her bones. She always did. It was the one thing she could depend upon. As long as he didn’t-

The phone rang.

Fuck.

“You blocked me?”

“Took you long enough to figure it out.”

“But I’ve figured it out now- look, please. One more chance. A second chance. You won’t regret it.”

“Do you promise to ‘never be cruel regardless of what I do or say’?”

“Listen, that’s not-”

“Do you promise?”

“I get angry too! You can’t just end this because I’m not willing to change one tiny, little thing about myself! Please, I love you so much I-”

“Do you hear yourself right now?”

A bitter laugh and she hung up. Well, there went her plans to move on.

And then . . .

The answering machine beeped. He switched it on.

“Darling, I promise!”

A wave of hatred towards the voice. She'd told him about that guy. He deleted the message. She didn’t need to hear that. She’d been through too much already.

Too little, too late.