GOODBYE
When she stopped calling, I understood. Our relationship belonged in the trash along with all the other things that had lost their luster or without any real intrinsic value. What’s a lifetime of love worth in the end? “I will miss you” or other platitudes that eventually boil down to that. It’s over. Even the eventual “I will miss you” must be earned with good behavior, maybe, a final shopping spree, excessive romantic gestures to restore the past, to restore the hearts that were once entwined or to prevent the inevitable.
It’s not particularly clear how I arrived at this juncture, defending my record, and arguing for a chance to keep my job; I knew that a 6 foot 4 inches, well-built commando had already replaced me in her bed, but I loved what was and I wanted to have it back desperately. She made me realize at the dinner she invited me to after not speaking with me for more than half a year that he is half German and half Italian, and according to her, that means there was no drop off in performance.
I had spent the last 205 days hoping she would say something about the sudden and abrupt end to a relationship that she said would span our lives. There was a comfort in hearing her say that. It is utterly flattering for a being with theoretically over a billion options to conclude that whatever the plethora of options describe, it is irrelevant against the value that they have assigned to you. When the text eventually arrived, it was the barest possible set of meaningful characters that anyone could string together in English and many languages I assume.
“Hi”
To which I hastily replied, as if the message would disappear.
“Hello! Happy new year !!”
“I thought that I might die before having a chance to speak with you again.”
A short phone call ensued, and the dinner invitation swiftly followed where I am inundated with stories that no one who is in love with the raconteur will enjoy and not one I thought was possible just 7 months ago. I took off my jacket because the ambient temperature made it rather uncomfortable to keep it on and suddenly, I was self-conscious. It was an odd feeling. I had been exercising a lot, but the tales of Mr. Macho Commando had me all rattled.
All the things that I loved about us has changed in some way, at least the perception of it has changed, so why hang on? Well, the Christian apostle Paul, writes in Corinthians that love never fails. I believe it. My heart goes on. She dropped my phone in the glass of wine in front of me, suddenly, without any of the usual prelude. She wanted me to put my jacket around her, purely out of sentiment, it wasn’t cold. At that time, I would have peeled my skin off if she had asked, but it was a ploy to get me away from my phone for this rather childish act.
When the technician at the T-Mobile store told me, he may not be able to recover my data, I promised to subscribe to the most expensive plan and purchase the latest Samsung phone to guarantee him the highest possible commission if he would restore my data. I was interested in preserving our text messages most of all and the multitude of pictures that she had sent me over the years. She had deleted our conversation thread and all photos of me, she told me that during the ominous dinner the day before. That fact made me all the more desperate, I was now the sole custodian of our shared personal history. I had to save us from extinction. Suddenly, I realized I don’t have to subscribe to an expensive service or buy an overpriced phone, I had all my data backed up in the cloud! Why I didn’t recall this immediately, paints a grim picture of my confused state of mind, from seeing her again after all this time.
“I made sure he was pretty”, that was a requirement that Mr. Macho Commando had to fulfil before she consummated their relationship. I could tell from the nonstop appellations and the ascribed regal qualities that this mystery man possesses, she was as much his wife as she was mine. It seemed in that moment, at that dinner, when she suddenly stuck a spoon of mashed potatoes in my mouth with her own spoon, and continued to eat with the same utensil, that this simultaneous marriage might be leaning my way. Before the night was over, we held hands, and she fed me my favorite dessert at our second restaurant. My hopes were up! I unraveled my dreads which I had put in a bun up till that time. I am looking fly I thought, as soon as I put my hands down, she emptied the glass of water in front of me into the Crème brûlée and left. I swiftly followed, my heart dropping lower with every step I took. The drive back to my car was swift, vibes of mutual destruction was thick in the air. I behaved myself.
I knew a man once whose age could not be determined. He looked older than anyone around and every time I suffer, I remember him for what he symbolizes to me, “Time will tell”. So, it appears that I have built my house upon the sand, and it has failed the test of time. The way she replaced me effortlessly left me feeling bitter, the fact that he is rich and handsome makes it worse. It is hard to admit but she upgraded, not just the man but also the trove of deeply sentimental outfits I had gifted her, for a collection of Gucci and Louis Vuitton bags, Tiffany diamond rings and all the other privileges a man with a 200-ft yacht can afford. Who can blame her? By the way, she branded me a cheater, at least that is what she told all her friends and family. That’s her truth as they say — who can dispute it? Not me for sure, I am guilty by accusation, and she is justified simply by claim. How is that for justice in our modern world!
“You broke me with your infidelity” she said calmly on that final phone call.
“I wondered for a long time, why I wasn’t enough” she said.
“Infidelity! Makes no sense … ” I responded, very frustrated.
She sensed my frustration and simply said,
“Why are you defending yourself, I don’t want, I don’t want…”
Finally, I got it. Our basis had always been the shared overwhelming love that paints over a million peccadillos and everything that gets in the way of togetherness, in mind, spirit and body. When she says she doesn’t want me anymore, she’s saying that the blaze is over, the fever has broken, the overwhelming torrential downpouring of love that has sustained us has fizzled to the light showers tagged — I will miss you; her final words to me. I was arrogant to think that our union was a fundamental piece of the earth, like salt, of separate elements but together, thought of as one never two.
Goodbye ex-wife, ex-lover, ex-everything.
____
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