فيزا💔
A few moments of total silence follow, awkwardness becomes dense between us, as we just ain't used to shutting our (damn) mouths for more than five seconds when we're in eachother's company, even telephone-wise... and I'm here, hysterically puffing on my cigarette, so fast that I'm getting a migraine induced by the nicotine, all I can hear from the other end of the phone is Sean burping (standard stuff, he has no holding back when it comes to doing the damn thing, he just gotta do what he gotta do sometimes and I find it kinda cute of him), and tapping his foot on the ground more or less like he's well oiled by the beer in his system, and quite impatient to hear what I've got to tell him. That, while I'm still thinking whether being honest with him would be the right thing to do, or a big fucking mistake. This wouldn't be my first big fucking mistake towards him, he's made his mistakes with me as well, twice if not thrice as severe as mine... and it's with this very precise thought in my mind, that I decide to go all in for the truth as blunt and as forward as it can get, regardless of the consequences of it. I don't do bullshit, I can't lie nor keep a secret to save my life, and I always tell it as it is. Even when it's hard on me, as honest is just the way I am. And if I lose him at some point into telling him this fucking stuff that I wouldn't ever want to tell him, well... I'll say that maybe we weren't meant to find eachother again, aftr all. Definitely not. And we will both be peaceful over the fact that after he snapped at me for no reason, insulted me, gaslit me, treated me lik shit and hit me in the face with a fucking makeup bag two weeks ago, I wasn't even supposed to talk to him ever again. His loss, not mine I suppose.
'I kissed my friend... more like, he kissed me... I thought he would've never... but he did, out of the blue, and ...'. I pipe in, telling him the very essential bit of the truth I'm aching (literally) to get out of my chest. But before I can add more detail to my narration, and tell him that I pushed my friend off and slapped him in the face for having stuck his tongue in my mouth without my consent, Sean interrupts me with a low growl of disappointment, and it's with it that I understand the he doesn't want to hear anything about my endeavours of the day anymore. I was expecting to hear the sound of broken glass after my revelation, I was expecting him to tell me that I'm no good and that he never wants to talk to me again, as I should've known that the only condition I had to oblige to in order to keep him with me was to 'never do him dirty'. I fucking did him dirty, or at least so I believe from his point of view, and this low growl of his means that it's gonna be the last time I ever hear from him... but I'm not sure, as he's oddly composed, chill, and still impatiently tapping his foot on the floor. Not saying a word, but at the same time letting me know that he doesn't even wanna hear one more from my side. Sense of guilt for my 'wrongdoings' of the afternoon is doing me head in, but if I'm staying afloat through it, it's because I felt like I had no choice but to be honest with him. I should've used better words to address the subject, I picked the wrongest ones because I'm not a native English speaker and sometimes I don't think twice before speaking, but at least now I'm on it, and that's literally all that counts to me. I love Sean from the bottom of my heart, maybe a little too much but who gives a fuck as long as he loves me back... and I haven't forgotten that we once promised eachother we would've always been crystal clear honest with the other. He's always been honest with me, except about the reason why he felt like he had to snap at me that night of two weeks ago. That one in particular, he's never said a word about. He's had his chances to tell me, many of them, I would've listened to him and asked him to tell me more... but he never grabbed the damn input, and kept being ambiguous for some reason I still haven't been able to figure out. And even if I know that he hates himself for the way he handled me that night, even if he's apologised to me a thousand times for what he's said and done to me, and each and every one of his apologies was heartfelt and sincere... he's never given me an explanation to his violent reaction to my nothing. Now I'm being honest with him about my own stuff, and it feels like he's neglecting me, not wanting to know anything else and such. Acting like he's out of patience, even. Doesn't it seem a little bit like a contradiction in terms ?
