It had been almost three months since I'd seen Hollie, three months when our lives had separated, and our paths sent us in different directions. She didn’t love me, she wanted someone else, not me. Old habits die hard I suppose, chasing after someone who kept her chasing. I would not beg, I would not plead for another human being to choose me, if she wanted to go, I would let her go. I packed up my belongings and hightailed it out of there. Empty and broken, I had no place to go and a heart without a home.
I spent my days on the floor of my older sister's spare bedroom, little motivation, permanent tear-soaked cheeks, curled up in a ball wondering how I could so easily be disposed of and disregarded. Dragging myself to a job at the hospital where I'd have to take care of others, when in reality I could barely even feed and bath myself. When my clothes stopped fitting, and I stepped on the scale it was not surprising that it read almost 40 pounds lighter.
It was October 26, three months and five days later when a text came through as I pulled into the driveway, and my stomach felt like it was doing summer salts. Immediately, I recognized the number, it was Hollie. I read some of the words on the screen and I sat in the driveway staring up at the phone, unable to pick it up. Panic lodged in the back of my throat, memories fill my consciousness, and it feels like my heartbreak is raw, fresh.
I stare at the phone a little longer before picking it up, with the words laid out on the screen just enough for me to read; that she was sorry. Was she apologizing, does she want me back, has she realized she was wrong and lost the best thing that ever happened to her? Her text read:
“I know you didn’t deserve what I did to you, I just wanted you to know that I really loved you, I did and yet I let my past suck me in and my selfishness took over. You were so good to me, and I didn’t deserve that. You were my best friend. I hope you are taking care of yourself; I feel like my life has fallen apart.”
I read it over and over and over, and then about 100 more times as I dialed up my best friend to tell her what just happened. The next day I sent a text back, not accepting the apology but engaging in small talk instead, removing myself from being harsh or dismissive. That would be unlike my character, I have never fought fire with fire. I have given love and understanding where it was not deserved but needed most. I knew underneath all her selfishness was good, and that her self-loathing and destructive behaviors were coping mechanisms she hadn’t yet learned to dismantle and change. Apologizing was unlike her, a very real step in the human department, and when I set aside my pain, I could see the bigger picture.
We exchanged conversation back and forth, not really touching on too much in depth stuff, happy to be in contact, and seemed like wherever she was, she was struggling.
Within a day she said she was coming back home, moving in with her sister until she got her feet on the ground. I did not pry, afraid of the outcome. I knew it was a four-hour drive from where she would be coming from, and her sense of urgency seemed critical. I stared at my phone, envisioning her sadness, with the awareness that I knew all along; that this was inevitable, and I felt it in my bones the moment that she said she was going back to her. It's amazing what our intuition can tell us, if we just tune into it and really listen.
I was a wreck, what did this mean, thoughts filled my head, yet nothing seemed clearer. Every fiber of my being told me that she was the one, and that we belonged together. I lived my life by the notion that everything happens for a reason, and what's meant for you will be and what's will not erase itself from the path right before your eyes. It's a truth that I had always felt, a very real and honest connection that we have to ourselves and the world around us. Was this not happening in real time? Excitement, fear orbited around me as I stared at my phone, the ball was very much in my court. The very next day she made her drive to the city we had once fallen in love in. Making an excuse that she could give me back something that I didn't even know was missing, nor did I need; we unconsciously made plans to meet up near the place where we first met. I didn't think about it until I walked along the paved path that led to a dock where we named an otter. It was after the 8th hour on our first date, we named him Steve, I smiled at the memory of us walking and talking and playfully enthralled by Steve's presence. I slid my hand over the banister, as if it could take me back to that night, where my whole world had changed. A sort of night, that if you believed in magic, it weaved its way into every tree, laugh and every time she looked at me.
My attention was disrupted when I caught sight of her, tall, handsome, and way too thin now. My heart starts racing, excitement, maybe fear, I don’t even know anymore. She cautiously hands over the item, which was an excuse to see me, as we proceed to walk and talk just like we did that first night. Every so often, we would stop and just share a silent glance between us that needed little words, you could feel what wasn't being said. I wanted so badly to reach out and place my hand on her cheek just to make sure she was real, to feel her.
She explains everything that's been going on and how the woman she left me for, did not in fact change, the toxicity, her loneliness, realizations, and then she tells me that the woman she had left me for texted her an hour ago and begged her to come back. She’s unsure and thinking about going back. With sincere honesty and turmoil, she spilled her heart out to me, which ironically made me feel extremely appreciative, that finally, she was opening up but also awful because with that came the actualization that she still loved another woman, and she still loved me. Her presence here was not unmeaningful but confusing, and I watched her carefully as her words parted from her lips, as she seemingly tried to make sense of all this.
She wraps me in her arms, “I don’t want to lose you.” Our bodies connect and I melt into her like it's all I've got. Tears fall from my eyes like bombs dropping into an ocean making waves everywhere. I don’t hold back, I cannot. With a broken voice I say “If you go back to her…. If you go back to something that is toxic and unhealthy, I can't be a part of your life, I can’t be your friend. I can’t watch you go through that. I love you enough to let you go, but I love me enough to not watch.” The tears fall even harder, my heart sinking and breaking into a million pieces as I wipe my tears away to clear my vision.
Our embrace is separated as I take a step back to look up at her and into her eyes. I need to see it; I need her eyes to tell me. With one of her hands placed on my hip and the other gently on my face, she keeps my gaze. Her eyes wide, dark and sad tell me all I need to know.
Quite tears stream down my face as I lean up and place my lips on hers, connecting in a way only her and I will ever know, one last time. “Take care of yourself” I whisper as I Ignore the electricity shooting through every ounce of my body and turn and walk away.
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2 comments
Break-ups can be so tough, but choosing yourself can be even tougher. Great story, Jess.
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Thanks Melissa, it truly can. Breakups can teach us so much, and be a catalyst to dig deeper.
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