My name is Malory Beatrice Lincoln. Your name is Henry George Oswald, and three years ago we were inseparable. Of course these were the beginning days of our dating that I am referring to. What is commonly known as the "Honeymoon Stage".
During this time you idolized me, do you not recall? You laughed at all my jokes, answered all my calls and messages, took me on dates, and we never missed a beat. Not when we sat in the back of your white truck and you stroked my long auburn hair, nor when we hiked in the snow and you did all that was in your power to keep me upright in the powder.
Our relationship started out short and sweet, and then you left me. Okay well you did not leave me emotionally, but you did physically. When you went out to fish for three months. Those were the hardest months of my life. Every day I spent alone and every night I sat at home by myself just thinking about you. I constantly worried that you were out with some random girl in some random village getting it on.
What made it all the worse was that you could not call me half of the time. I had to keep reminding myself that it was not your fault when I called and you wouldn't answer. You were likely out of cell phone range and I couldn't have blamed you for that now could I? Especially when the second you were in range and had a break from work, my phone would light up with your face on it. That silly photo I had taken of us holding a frozen starfish together on the beach. It was so cold out that we were bundled up from head to toe, and you could hardly even tell who it was in the picture. I liked to think that it represented our relationship perfectly: icy and mysterious.
In fact, that picture is still on my lock screen. It isn't obsessive of me, I just like constantly seeing a happy moment in my life, and there is nothing wrong with that.
Anyways, you came back from your summer of fishing and things were supposed to get better. You had promised me that. So why did they seem to only get worse?
It was not much longer before you started slipping up in your ways. You stopped getting all of my jokes, and sometimes I worried that you were not laughing because you were not listening to me. You started missing my calls and waiting hours to respond to my messages. The dates became more rare and more of a chore than a luxury. Instead of missing the beats, you chose to skip them.
It drove me nuts, bonkers, psycho, and mad. I tried to be the sane girlfriend. I really did not want to be labeled as a crazy ex. I wanted things to work out between us so badly, but once I had begun to see that you did not want to the same thing, I could not unsee it.
Then I realized that it was not that you didn't want things to work, you just got less excited about it. Things were too clean and organized and boring between us. We needed to get messy, and by God did we get messy.
Those nights when you stayed out late with the boys, I sat and stayed up waiting for you to come home, each time prepared to rip you a new one. We would blow up with our screaming and shouting and crying. It wasn't the fighting I was looking for, believe me on that much. It was the make up sex that followed. Anybody who says that make up sex after a steamy fit of rage is not the best kind of sex, well they either have never tried it or are lying.
That is what we were for a while. Fighting, fucking, and well falling, but not deeper in love as I had hoped for. The nights we spent together may have been hot, but the mornings were cold. We iced over in our sleep, and when we opened our eyes it was not the passion we were awakened too, it was pain and fear about what was to come of us.
It was apparent that we couldn't go on like that forever, but I still didn't want it to end. Yet it had to.
So I left. I called up some friends, packed my bags, and moved halfway across the country. We didn't breakup officially, well we were on a break we decided. Still, you took me to the airport, you kissed me goodbye, and we continued talking. However, it was as though a board had come up between us and neither of us really tried to find a way around it.
