Choices. If you look
closely – they are everywhere. Some are
big. Some are meaningless. Some cause us to stop in our tracks at a
future date – wondering was this the right decision? Choices.
I chose to focus on my work on July 30th. It was the only way I knew – after all, I couldn’t
afford to mess anything up. I had too much
riding on the upcoming weeks and to get lose in the contents of my head wouldn’t
do any good. I knew that this writing
would come, as much as I have tried to fight it.
On July 29th, Becca broke up with me. I’d be lying if I told you I was surprised;
for a week or so prior to it happening, I could feel a distance between
us. My birthday felt forced – and when
she came to visit me at my apartment, it almost felt as if she didn’t want to
be there. Perhaps some of it was guilt
that she forgot exactly when my birthday was.
As the days drew closer to it, she made no mention of my birthday. I chose not to remind her. I chose not to make any mention of it. I guess in a way I was testing her.
The break up stung despite it needing to happen. Nearly two months later, I’ve almost
completely closed the door. I choose to
still feel sadness when it comes to thinking about what unraveled between Becca
and me. I accept it and there are days I
do not feel sadness – I feel annoyance.
But ultimately, I understand that it was not me and rather it was
her. It simply was her issues. Yet, there are days it is as if Becca and I never
existed. We are something that has
disappeared in the dark night – never to be seen again. Ever.
While Becca and I were more than likely not right for each other, there’s
something very difficult about this relationship ending.
Yet, despite this, I choose to start again. I choose to open my heart again and let love
in – albeit, slowly.
On August 22nd I came home after a long day at
work – I said goodnight to my extremely chatty doorman Sean, before even giving
him the opportunity to engage me in conversation. I was nearly at the elevators when his Irish
accent bellowed down the hallway, “Oh Lindsay.
I have something for you.” I
stopped in my tracks and hesitantly turned back. I couldn’t imagine what it would be; but as
Sean approached me with a small Starbucks bag with my name and apartment number
on it, I quietly hoped it would be from Becca.
An apology bag; or was it something worse? Was it something else that was mine that she
had forgotten to return to me and this was it?
My heart ached with every step Sean and I took towards each other.
I wished Sean goodnight again as I took the bag and returned
to the elevators; I peaked inside and began to think, “Maybe it’s Mackenzie
wishing me good luck at the US Open.” I
was set to start work there in just 14 short hours. I saw my guilty pleasures – Cheetos, Reese’s
peanut butter – and oh! A note! It was on stationary and it looked like
several pages, my heart began to race, ‘it HAS to be from Becca! She’s writing to apologize!’ I grew excited and as soon as I saw the
handwriting, my heart sunk. It came
crashing down – I went to the last page to confirm what my eyes were thinking.
It ended with a simple close
Always, Jennifer
It stopped me dead in my tracks – and I missed the
elevator. I returned the letter to the
bag and entered the elevator with a body that felt as if it had a weight thrown
on it. As the elevator ascended, I could
feel myself weakening with every floor. ‘Why?’ ‘Why now?’
‘What part of my lack of response to any form of communication did she
not understand?’ ‘Why can’t she just
accept I don’t want her in my life?’ I was
unraveling and I couldn’t have been happier to arrive on the 21st
floor. Closing my apartment door took
very little strength, but the resounding thud it made, sounded like my heart –
hollow. I cried. Not loudly or awkwardly, just a steady stream
of tears – like a faucet that had no ability to turn off. I walked to my closet, stood on my toes and
put the bag far out of reach – and sight.
I chose not to look any further – even though I was tempted
to eat the Reese’s peanut butter cup – I chose not to let her “win”. I had too much to do these next 12 days and I
needed every bit of concentrate to stay with me. It stayed there until September 4th.
The letter was light, there was a weak attempt at a sexual
joke that didn’t even make me smile – it annoyed me. It reminded me of how annoyed she made me
feel towards the end of our relationship.
I was told I could visit any time – and an address was provided. I rolled my eyes at the thought of that. While she did mention that she hoped I was
happy and that I deserved to be happy, it felt forced. It felt as if there was something more she
wanted to say, but just couldn’t bring herself to say.
I chose to text her to say thank you. We wrote back and forth for just about an
hour – before I simply stopped replying.
I chose to stop. I didn’t want to
hear any more. Which bring us to
yesterday. She texted me about the
Friends replica coffee house – apparently she’s working the event. It wasn’t entirely clear. I didn’t respond. I went about my Sunday and kept my phone
buried in my jeans as I watched football and consumed my third order of wings
in two days.
Later, I began to settle in for the evening, when my phone
alerted me yet again. I was not quick to
check – but when I did, I groaned. “Happy
Blue Room day!” It was Jennifer
again. This time she was reminding me of
something that I hadn’t even thought about.
Strangely enough, she remembered that the 21st marked our
first date three years ago at the Blue Room.
It took a great deal of strength to not shout out in annoyance, “Nice of
you to remember it NOW!” Instead, I turned
over my phone, walked to my freezer and took out a Chipwich. I chose comfort over addressing the
situation.
The truth is, Jennifer and I did share a connection I had
never truly experienced with someone.
The truth is, I saw a future with her that I have never seen with anyone
else. The truth is, she broke my heart –
three times. The truth is, she cannot
give me what I want. The truth is, while
I do want us to be friends, she has made it very difficult.
It annoys me that she still remembers where I live; and
quite frankly it also rattles me a bit.
I come home with a hint of trepidation most nights. I don’t know how I would react and I would
hope that whomever is on duty would tell her not to wait for me. It annoys me that she seems to still lurk in
a needy way (unless of course that is my mind playing tricks on me) – I am extremely
hesitant to let her back in my life right now.
I simply cannot afford to have such a taxing personality in my
life. I know I couldn't handle her needs as
a friend – and she always had a blurry vision of what our friendship was. Her actions when she was dating the guy she
broke up with me for, was a prime example of that.
I choose to ignore you yet again Jennifer. I know this is hurtful to you – and I am so
very sorry to do that to you. I never
want to be the bad one – but in this case, I must draw the line. Perhaps one day, I will be in a place where I
can choose to let you in. Not now.
I choose to work on my strength – inner and physical. I choose to look after me. I choose to let my heart open again. I choose to discover someone new. I choose to give everything I have to things
that excite me. I choose to let someone
in.
