Echoes of Yesterday

The shrill ring of my phone pierced through the quiet of my apartment, startling me. I glanced at the screen and froze. The caller ID was my own name. Not a friend, not a family member, but me. Heart pounding, I hesitated, fingers hovering over the answer button. My mind raced, trying to come up with some rational explanation for why I was receiving a call from myself.

Then, curiosity got the better of me.

I answered.

“Hello?” My voice came out breathy, almost afraid.

“Don't go back to him.” The voice on the other end was unmistakable—my voice, but younger, with the sharper edge I hadn’t heard in years. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Don’t pretend you aren’t. I know you.”

I blinked, confusion swirling in my chest. “What the—? Who is this?”

“It’s you,” the voice said, impatient now. “Three years ago. You’re about to make the same mistake all over again, and I’m not going to let you.”

The phone slipped slightly in my grip, and I scrambled to adjust it. My knees wobbled, and I sat down on the couch, my pulse thundering in my ears.

“This is a joke, right? You can’t actually be me.” I tried to inject some sense into the situation, but a part of me—deep down—knew it wasn’t a prank. I didn’t have friends who would mess with me like this, and there was something about the voice. The tone, the phrasing...it was too accurate.

“I’m real,” she said with a sigh, as if tired of explaining. “And if you don’t listen to me, you’re going to regret it. You’re sitting there, trying to convince yourself he’s changed. You think maybe, just maybe, this time it will be different. But it won’t be. He’ll hurt you again.”

I shuddered, memories rushing back unbidden—late nights waiting for his texts, the endless excuses, the feeling of being invisible when I was right next to him. Still, I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me.

“But he’s reached out, and he says—”

“I know what he says,” she interrupted, her voice dripping with the bitter knowledge that only hindsight could give. “He’s sorry. He’s changed. He misses you. He’ll never do it again.” Her laugh was hollow. “But it’s all lies. He hasn’t changed. He’ll suck you back in, and before you know it, you’ll be back in that same place—crying, wondering why you weren’t enough. Why you’re never enough.”

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes. “People can change,” I whispered, as much to myself as to the voice on the other end. “What if...what if this time it’s different?”

“No,” she said firmly. “He’ll never be the man you need him to be. I know it feels easier to go back. Familiarity, even when it’s toxic, can be comforting. But you deserve better, and deep down, you know it. Do you really want to go back to those sleepless nights? To that constant knot in your stomach?”

My chest tightened at the thought. I had been holding onto the tiniest thread of hope, convincing myself that maybe I’d overreacted. Maybe I hadn’t given him enough chances. But hearing my past self lay it all out...it was like being hit with a bucket of ice water.

“Why are you calling me now?” I asked, wiping the tears away with the back of my hand. “Why today?”

“Because you’re on the edge, aren’t you? You’ve been thinking about texting him back, and you know once you do, it’s over. You’ll get sucked in, and then it’ll be another six months of bullshit before you break free again.”

She wasn’t wrong. I’d been staring at his message for days now, wondering if I should reply. A part of me craved the familiar—the safety of the known, even if it came with pain. I chewed on my lower lip, staring at the phone in my hand. “What happens if I listen to you?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“You move on,” my past self replied, her voice softening. “You heal. You find someone who treats you the way you deserve to be treated. Someone who doesn’t make you question your worth. But you can’t get there if you’re still holding onto him.”

I sucked in a shaky breath, trying to imagine a future where I wasn’t haunted by the ghost of my ex. Where I wasn’t second-guessing every decision because of him. “How do you know? How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m you,” she said. “And I’ve lived through it. I know what happens if you stay. I know how it feels to be trapped in that cycle. I’m calling to give you the chance to break it before it breaks you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. I’d been down this road before. Each time, I told myself it would be different, that this time he’d really changed. And each time, I ended up right back where I started—heartbroken, exhausted, and wondering how I let myself fall for his charm again.

“I’m scared,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. “Of what happens next. Of being alone.”

“Being alone is better than being with someone who makes you feel lonely,” she said gently. “And you won’t be alone forever. You’ll find your way. But first, you need to let go.”

I closed my eyes, letting the words sink in. It wasn’t easy to hear, but I knew she was right. I knew I was right. This wasn’t just a warning from my past—it was a lifeline. A chance to change the course of my future.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Okay, I won’t go back.”

For a moment, there was only silence on the other end of the line. Then, she let out a small, relieved laugh. “Good. You’re stronger than you think. Don’t forget that.”

The call ended abruptly, the line going dead. I stared at the phone, still reeling from the conversation. A message from my past self? A time-traveling phone? It sounded impossible, but somehow, it had happened. And now, I had a choice.

I glanced at the text from my ex again, fingers hovering over the screen.

Then, with a deep breath, I deleted the message.

For the first time in a long time, I felt free.