If I Let Go

9

The thing about hurting for someone when you never got to the relationship stage is that its a different kind of pain. I cannot possibly compare this to my previous experience because I could at least blame  Nathan majority of the time.

He shut me out and slowly we began drifting apart. Before I knew it, I had become his punching bag because apparently, Nathan could not be talked into seeing a therapist to work out his stuff.

With Mark, I am left with questions and regret. I never got to call him my boyfriend or got anywhere close to meeting his friends. My perception of him and what we had is pure and innocent, like I was falling in love for the first time from the moment he said his name six months ago.

It’s been two weeks since we last spoke. Of course I did not expect him to drop everything and fight for our future. I understand that the stakes are high and more importantly, we have known each other only recently. But I expected him to miss me and reach out to find out if I am okay. I have not received a single text or call from Mark since our last rendezvous.

Even when I had the final session for the semester with his class on Monday last week, he did not acknowledge me. He just paid attention to his notes and occasionally chatting with Angie, the musician. When he class ended, he grabbed his backpack and hurriedly left the room while I pretended to take time unplugging my charger and replying to a text to give him a chance to linger and approach me as the other students filed out.

June tells me that communication goes both ways, I could send a short text and see what happens.

"What if he leaves me on read?" I try to reason with my best friend. Unlike her, concerns about my ego tend to have the upper hand when it comes to decision making. "How would I live with myself?"

June throws me a look that suggests she is not at all surprised with my answer. "With that kind of mindset, how are we supposed to separate facts from assumptions?"

“What are you really implying? "

“That you grab your goddamn phone and send him a short text. If he chooses not to respond, it is his loss. It's not like it would be tattooed to your face that your admirer left you one read because he is so immature," June reassures.

"I admit it doesn't make it to the top five crazy things I have done to get a man's attention. But, you will stop bugging me if it turns out I was right," I give in and June high fives me with a devilish smirk.

I take out my phone and bite my right cheek as I ponder over what to say. Right this moment, I am about to prove my biggest fear. That all along, I existed in Mark's life as an easy prey that can be easily replaced. Before I can talk myself out of the dare, I type:

Hi. How have you been? Checking if you are ok.

"So now what?" I ask and place my Samsung on my desk with the screen facing down.

"Now we wait," June responds in a not-too-sure tone. I roll my eyes and she shrugs in response and prepares to lock up her desk.

It's 6.30 pm and she is about to call it a day. June would normally leave immediately her classes end at five but it is the first week of the finals and since it's mostly about supervising the examinations, most of us are not in a hurry to dart out of the school compound.

"Are you sure you don't want to attend Stan's party? It begins at nine. Gives you enough time to go get changed and have a quick shower."

"I am sure." I give my best friend a weak smile and just uncase I hurt her feelings, I add, "Thanks for offering though. Tell Stan I wish him a happy birthday."

June fixes her eyes on me. "And why are you unavailable today exactly?"

"I don't like waking up with a hangover," I say lamely.

"And I don't like fries because they ruin my waistline yet I eat them every fucking day," June retorts, her hand on her hip. Unlike Melissa, she is not always this patient with me which must mean she pities me. "Sal, you are not spending another evening sulking in your apartment. That's such a huge  waste of Friday."

"What I am doing, then?"  I dismiss the remark about my grieving methods.

“I am driving to your house to help you pick a good outfit. Then we go get ready in my place. Tomorrow, you wake up in a strangers bed,” my best friend answers automatically.

"Nice try,"  I wave her off and grab my handbag too but not without checking my phone for any notifications.There is none and it’s been fifteen minutes.

I wonder why I am surprised when I expected Mark to lose my number the second I exited his sleek car.

"If you change your mind, don't hesitate to text me," June says when we part at the parking lot. I nod and sink in my driver's seat.

Back in my apartment, I change into a tank and sweat pants. I pour juice into a glass and drain it in two huge gulps. I have nothing else to do beside check my phone so I lie on the sofa to watch the evening news. I feel myself slowly drift into a deep sleep and I mute the T.V. At some point during the night, I undress and get in the comfy covers of my bed.