To rendezvous or not to rendezvous…

“One who is wise, endeavors to learn how to understand the truth not less than that”

-African Proverb

4 days to go…

I can’t wait to see him. He actually broke and reached out. In the game of chicken, I have always been unbeatable. How many nights did I pray for the tables to turn? No matter how hard I tried, I was always the one who kept coming back. Each time broke me further than the last. After all, is it not the law of exes, that one who keeps coming back after calling it quits is the loser? It must be true because it sure felt like it. No more though. After a year and a half of going cold turkey on him, he was the one who broke and contacted me. Sure he did not call, but it still counts, right? It is a short chat but it is a request for a meetup and I accept since I have moved on after all. No hard feelings right? He says he will reach out in four days and confirm the details. I sent a neutral face emoji, sought to say “yeah whatever, I’m good either way.” I place the phone on the table and walk away feeling like I just sunk in a three-pointer shot in the last millisecond taking the game.

3 days to go…

I can’t help think how if that text had arrived a year and a few months earlier, the reaction would have been very different. Back then I remember feeling how there was no way the connection we had felt would be that fragile. I know, I know, it had only been three months. It is an extremely short time to form any meaningful bond, but it is a matter of quality over quantity. At least that is how it felt to me. Oh no! what I’m I doing? I cannot actually be spiraling right now. It has been so long, I should be over this. So much time has passed, so many life-changing decisions have been made since then. I’m putting too much thought into this. I already went through the healthy version of recovery, analyzed every move made, journaled for a whole year with purpose and the verdict was clear. We were not right for each other. So why I’m I even wasting time thinking about this? After all, it is not like the date is set in stone. For all I know, it may just be one of those things he just says and never does, or maybe he was just testing to see if I would respond. I did after all block his account on my major handles and even deleted his number. So I might have caught him off guard by actually responding, and he was forced to make something up. I’m spiraling again, I should stop. I have so much that needs to get done, and this is not helping in any way.

2 days to go…

So, how am I going to play this? I did already play the “I’ve accomplished so much since the last time you saw me” card before and discovered the battle of ego is not one whose victory is enjoyable. So that is off the table. I’ve got it! how about I remain present in the conversation, sharing very little detail about me, and he leaves and realizes that he knows nothing about me in the end. Wait, this is too much thought over a simple checkup text. Maybe I’m not exactly over him as I thought I am. Maybe we can never really be friends. How do people become friends with their exes again? He sends a single, short text, and for three whole days, he has been living in my head rent-free.

I am sinking back into the hole that I was in. No, it is decided. If he reaches out again, I will inform him of my unavailability. I cannot put myself through this again.

1 day to go…

I can’t help notice how each time I get ready for a bath, is when I suddenly have urgent or more interesting things to do. So as I am hurriedly scrolling through my social media account in the struggle of peeling myself of my phone and get into the shower already, a particular post catches my eye. It’s an inspirational quote that goes “In the war of ego, the loser always wins.” With that I smile, happy that I am not letting my ego get the best of me. Just as I’m about to place my phone on the bed, a message notification pops up. “I’m sorry I messed up. I want us to start from the beginning if that’s okay that with you. Coffee date tomorrow?” I place down the phone, and head to the shower, a rush of emotions and thoughts going through me. Absent-mindedly, I get dressed, make a cup of hot cocoa, sit at my work desk and turn on my laptop. In the process of my laptop coming to life, my thoughts seize the opportunity and take the center stage.

Maybe I should meet up with him just to hear him out. I mean no harm in just listening right? People do change. I have changed too. I turn to my phone and open the chat and start typing a response. I stop mid text. I have been here before. This is where it all started, with the so-called deep connection whose accompanying actions bore no weight. No, I cannot go through the nights and days of obsessing whether he will call or not. Whether the calls will be picked or get cut off because he is dealing with something. Whether I deserve the aloofness because I was burdening him with my issues when he clearly had more on his plate. I’m not going to put my thoughts and feelings second again.

With the newfound assertiveness, I start typing,  “I’m sorry but I don’t feel the same…” I’m stopped mid-sentence with a new message from him. “I’m in a better place now, things will be different this time. I promise.” I can’t help thinking how he might be reading my mind. It is a sign of how well he knows me right?  I delete the message I had typed earlier, leave the chat, turn off the screen, turned over the phone, and take a deep breath. I just can’t deal with this right now. I turn to my laptop and immediately start responding to my work emails.

The D-day

Flight is the weapon of choice. I have been avoiding all thoughts concerning the day's intended meet-up. I have been on a cleaning spree of my apartment since morning. My phone has been getting continuous notifications for the past hour. I should just put it on silent mode at this point but that means risking reading the messages. So no. If I don’t do anything, it will all probably go away. It always does. Besides, my neighbor is stopping by any minute and my babysitting duty will start soon. It will be a good and long enough distraction. The knock on the door floods my body with a much-needed sense of relief. I habitually check the peephole, hands on the door handle and right there everything freezes and my mind goes blank. How is he here? How does he know where I live? It can’t be. I step back and freeze on the second knock.