“You have one saved message press 1 to..”
He pressed the button and the message began to play.
“Hey it’s…” Her voice suddenly cut off as he pushes the end button.
He decided to go for a walk, no destination in mind. A walk to just walk. Just to be anywhere but here.
He briefly thought for a moment about how many times he had said that to her in the heat of an argument or a fight.
He cursed slightly under his breath as he stood up and slid his phone into his pocket. He stepped to the front door and scooped up his keys off the side table glancing up at the key rack that now sat unused.
She hated that he refused to hang his keys, and it was always a reason for a fight. Seems like such a small thing in hindsight. He knew now it was less about the keys being hung up and more about something else entirely.
He opened the door and allowed the cool fall air to hit him in the face as he did the quick pocket pat down to make sure he had his essentials before stepping out into the night closing the door behind him.
He put his headphones on and took out his phone and looked at the little red icon denoting he had a voicemail. He ignored it once again and put the music on shuffle. He placed the phone back in his pocket and started walking.
It doesn’t take long for his thoughts to wander right back to her.
They had been together since grade school, a young love that parted ways through circumstances beyond their control but somehow, some way always found their way back to each other. Had he believed in that sort of thing… one might use the description of “Soul Mate”
He skipped through a few songs that seem to make him particularly vulnerable. He almost stopped to grab a coffee but couldn’t bring himself to go inside the diner. Just in case Sam asked him about her.
Every song, every store, every book, every restaurant… everything had a memory with her attached. At some point in time, they had stopped being individuals and become one entity.
It’s never until it’s over when you really remember all the things that made you fall in love. Sure you’ll remember bits and pieces here and there but it’s a flood of memories. The good, the great, the bad…
And there it was again.
He stopped and closed his eyes fighting back tears.
Every little mistake he had made, every thing said that couldn’t be taken back, every dig and snide remark said in anger.
Everything not said. You could fill a book.
They had been so good until they weren’t.
It’s never the last straw that breaks the camels back. It’s the thousands upon thousands before that. If you don’t deal with them as you they come then they start to pile up and of course the inevitable happens.
They snapped. No one saw the bad days, they saw the social media highs. The dates, the cute hashtags, the smiles. People saw what what they wanted them to see. No one wants to share the ugly with the world.
#SleepingOnTheCouch #TrustIssues #DoesntListen #Unappreciated
The fights between them got worse and worse. Screaming matches. Cold shoulders. Walking out.
Highest of highest and lowest of lows.
By the end… they barely could stand to be in the same room as each other alone.
But they stayed together, band aid promises of working it out, Fixing things, desperately trying to get back to where they were before.
And now every chance of that is gone.
He stopped and looked down at his phone.
That little red icon.
He clicked it and punched in the numbers.
“You have 1…”
He hit the number and the message began playing.
“Hey it’s just me…”
He hung up the phone, a knot in his stomach and a lump in his throat.
He thought about the day it ended.
It had been one of their shittier days and he had left that night without saying anything to her. Things were said that just couldn’t be taken back.
“I fucking hate you.”
It was supposed to be just a typical boys night out, poker and a couple drinks and just general idiocy. He needed a break from her. Blow off some steam and try to figure out if this whole thing was worth it anymore.
Relationships have their ups and downs. Theirs had become far more downs then ups.
She had called and he sent it straight to voicemail.
He remember thinking to himself, what did she want now, what else could she possibly have to say.
He turned his phone off and finished out the night. A few drinks turned into far more drinks then he expected.
He woke up on the couch to a thumping in his head before realizing it was actually on the front door. Rolling off the couch swearing and scrambling to answer it.
He opened the door and…
He suddenly realized he’d been standing there for a long time staring at his phone, lost in a memory.
That little red icon. Screaming at him.
He stepped off to the side and leaned against the wall. He took a deep breath.
When he had answered the door that day the police were at the door. They sat him down and spoke softly.
Anyone to call…
Sorry. Such a small word for such a big hurt.
Time has no meaning for that period of time. The police left. He screamed. Drowning in shock, sadness, anger…
Months later, he walks the street trying to reconcile these feelings of guilt. Guilt for playing the part of the grieving boyfriend. Guilt for not being able to be sad she was gone. Guilt for the lies and the pretending.
Now all that was left was a voice mail. Unable to listen to it. Unable to erase it.
He held his breath and hit the button again.
“You have one saved message press 1 to…”
“Hey it’s just me. I’m Sorry.. Have fun tonight and I will see you tomorrow, make good decisions. I love you. Everything will be ok.”