The Brokenhearted [Ongoing]

Chapter 03

The reflection in the mirror said it all. Dark circles around bloodshot eyes; the result of a restless night with few intermittent naps. It was the first day, and it was going to be a long one. I will contemplated skipping work but knew all too well, it would only make things worse.

Afterall, an idle mind Sophia's playground, I thought to myself. All I could do now was keep busy and get through this, get through to the other side.

I resembled a rapid dog as foam trickled down the side of my mouth and dripped down in to the white sink. That's when I heard barking in my head and figured it was the first step to insanity.

They came once again, the muddled thoughts about Sophia; I remembered the beautiful moments we shared, the priceless memories we had created and cherished. I remembered the multiple cliche candlelit dinners, the 2am knock on her door in the rain because I just couldn't wait to see her . I remembered her walking up behind me, leaning in and gently resting her head on my back while I shaved in the mornings. I always smiled when I rang the doorbell and heard her anxiously scurry to the door.

Then like a wrecking ball, the image of Drew and Sophia came out nowhere, shattering my memories. My grip on the basin tightened as I shut my eyes and leaned over. The hollow pain rushed in with increasing, pulsing and throbbing. I bit hard on the toothbrush, ripping out the bristles.

I stared at the numbers blinking at the same single beat. I wanted to hear the messages. I wanted to know if she had called and what she said. I wanted to hear her cry and beg for forgiveness.

But what if she hadn't called?

How much would that hurt?

If she did call, how much would her message hurt?

What if her message was in line with us splitting up and she wanted her things?

I was going insane! I plugged the phone back in and walked away, leaving the machine blinking.

As the distance to her home shortened, the pace of my heart quickened.

Would she be standing outside? Probably not, it was far too early in the morning to be up. The fact that it took me almost twenty minutes to get a cab was evidence of that. Part of me wanted to see her, and yet, I hoped I wouldn't. The battle between my heart and mind was going to ruin me. This confusion between logic and desire was devouring my soul. As the internal struggle intensified, I tried to boil it down to the hard facts:

Do you have feelings for her?

Yes

Do you miss her?

No

Could you be with her?

"Fuck no!" I whispered, as my hand turned into a fist, digging my nails into the palm.

"What was that?" Asked the driver, "I couldn't quite hear you."

"No nothing. It was nothing."

This was always the part I hated about break-ups, the recovery. It takes far too long, the extreme and unpredictable mood swings sparked off by insignificant reminders. Them, there are the moments of weakness, when we want nothing more than to be with the person. We justify calling the person, knowing that doing so only makes it harder, after which, we are faced with the gaping void we try to fill. We seek companionship and security and give way to vulnerable desperation. As a result, we jump from person to person, only to realize in the quiet moments that the void remains. The cycle continues, and we're trapped in a descending spiral.

As we approached her house, I saw no one outside. In spite of my unrealistic expectations, I couldn't keep the awful feeling of dissapointment at bay. I stood at the end of the pebble path flanked by luscious grass, and stared at the wooden door, desperately hoping that it would fly open and she'd run to me teary eyed and arms spread wide.

"Fucking drama scenes" I chuckled as I turned away from the porch.

Walking towards my car, I recalled her spontaneous reaction when she had first seen it. Initially she didn't like the inferno red pearl colour, but it gradually grew on her. She had wanted me to lease a BMW or a Lexus, but after taking a spin or two in the Dodge Charger, she was smitten.

I caught a whiff of her familiar jasmine scent while pulling the doors shut. Her presence must have always been there, but today was when I first noticed it. I took a deep breath to inhale it completely. I felt like smoker taking his first drag after months of deprivation.

Eyes shut, I allowed the scent to fuel the memories that flickered in my mind. Sophia's aroma filled my lungs, invoking a deep desire for her. With that came the sinking feeling of depression, one I knew I'd experience often.

I saw a cream coloured envelope pinned under the left wiper. I reached out to grab it and it simply read 'Chad'. There was no 'Dear' or any other term of endearment. I traced my forefinger over her handwriting. As pretty as it was, it felt so empty and yet heavy.

I wanted to tear it open and read the note, but I was scared. I looked up, but there was no one by the window . The next emotion, anger was on its way.

I flung the envelope onto the passenger seat and slammed the accelerator to the floor. The tires screeched, undoubtedly leaving skid marks on the tarmac.the send in the car now fed the feelings of betrayal and humiliation that I suffered. For whom I once only wished joy and happiness, I now desired pain and misfortune.

How rapidly emotions could swing from one extreme to another!

How suddenly had I been forced to cross that thin line between love and hate!

I wanted vengeance, I wanted her to be hurt, to suffer and most importantly, I wanted her to regret.

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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Thank you for reading my story hope you enjoy..
l o v e l o t s

SWETTCHEEKS14