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Seeing as all the boys had followed Sara, I decided to unfollow her, then follow her again. I thought maybe she'd follow me back, and she did.
I browsed through her Instagram, where she was more active. My blood boiled as I scrolled through every picture of her and Mark. I didn't know why I was feeling this way, I didn't know what exactly I was feeling, but I knew I wanted it to stop.
It was so stupid how I broke up with her, how I didn't care about Sara for two years. It was even stupider that, almost four years after our relationship ended, I wanted her. I was jealous that her boyfriend was enjoying all the things about her that I used to enjoy. That he was kissing the same lips I used to kiss. That he was holding girl I swore to myself I would marry someday.
I messed up badly. I wanted Sara back so badly. And it was pathetic.
What made me feel even worse was remembering the promises I made her. We had so many of them.
"I swear I am going to marry you someday."
"If we have a son, let's name him Benjamin."
"Football will never get in between us."
"We can work this out while I'm in Manchester."
"I promise we'll talk tomorrow, Sara. I'm tired."
"I promise I'll visit soon. And, when you graduate med school, we'll celebrate like hell."
And then there came the lies.
"I'm not avoiding you, Sara! I told you, I'm tired. I'm very busy here."
"No girls here have my interest."
"Of course I'm still madly in love with you."
"We are gonna have the times of our lives when you graduate."
I wanted to punch myself in the face for being such a jerk to her. It seemed reasonable to say all that stuff back then, but now, it seemed to clear. If a man treated my (hypothetical) daughter the way I treated Sara, I would want to kill him.
I picked up my phone again and refreshed my Twitter feed.
Sara Cacères@saracaceres17
💖💖💕💕
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I stared at my screen and cursed under my breath. So Mark, who was with Sara for just more than a year, did what I never picked up the courage to do in four? Okay, maybe I have the tiniest pinch of respect for you.
As expected, David rang my phone.
"Sergio!" he was almost shouting, "I think Doctora's engaged!"
