Oh, Eleanor

Chapter 15: A seen text unreplied

Ron made no efforts to prove he's alive for the coming days. He kept to himself. Scarcely spoke to anyone. Barely shoved food down his throat.
Counted every breathing second and felt it's existence...
"Lee, I know we haven't talked for days. But I want to say I am sorry I didn't" he typed and stared at the screen for some huge seconds. Then he hit backspace.
"Dear Lee," he started again, "I don't deserve to text you. I am sorry for what happened but it pretty needed to happen. However sorry you feel or I.
We were in a relationship. A rocky one, yes. But it was something than nothing. We fought for nine out of ten breaths, but we were together. You never trusted me with another girl. But you never skipped to call me if I reached home every night. You were angry at me for even the littlest of the reasons, but you never skipped the kissing face emoji. We stayed feet apart when we where together, and when the distance started to speak up, we closed it with kisses. Not because we felt like kissing, but because we were insecure the other might leave. What would you call that? Faking things? Yeah. Not knowingly but we were faking. Burying our regression with the mud dug out of that relationship.
It was it all. But what it wasn't was love.
You might as well be a good lover to the douchy Shawn, I am just a peasant after all."
He hit send, and immediately regretted typing the last line.
Damn. He thought, I sound pathetic.
He noticed the message being marked read almost instantaneously. He waited for a reply but nothing came back. Not a single syllable.
Just when he was wondering over this complete nothingness in his life on one face of the coin, and Eleanor with torn sleeves and injuries on the other, he heard the doorbell.
Going hurriedly downstairs to answer, he opened the door. But no one was at sight outside.
"Some rascal kids playing around." He told himself. Almost as if offering a self sympathy.
Then he heard a low bark. He gazed down to see the familiar dog on his porch.
"Beckett!" Ron exclaimed.
He bent down and massaged Beckett's warm black fur for a few seconds. He danced his tail in delight. Ron's hand brushed against the brown leather collar when he realized a paper tied to it.
Eleanor. He thought.