“But why? Why have you been acting this way for the past ten months? Why? This isn’t who you really are. I know you, I’ve known for over 3 years, I’ve loved you about two years and we’re already together one year and a half. Why?”
She said. Her hands clenching the steering wheel.
She glimpsed at him, but he was still in the same position as almost an hour ago: he sat there, frozen, staring forward.
It made her feel even more helpless. Useless. Pointless.
“The week before you drove by my house… By my door… After all those angry, upset, hurt messages I texted you, after the call I made… You simply drove by my house on the way to your practice. You’ve been home for hours, two and a half at least, you live three streets away from me… and still.. you couldn’t find the courage to come over for a few minutes. To try and fix it. To comfort me. To say you’re sorry.. You simply drove by…”
She went on.
“The first minutes after I saw your car pas my front door I cried… my heart was pounding like it only does when I’m deeply hurt.
And then I called you, to ask if you really did just drive by my house, if you really were going to your practice and act like nothing happened. You said yes. I answered that your stuff was waiting for you, so when you’d pass by, you could come and get them.
You asked if this was the end, if this was it. I got mad, again.”
Her breathing got heavier as the memories of that night came back. She could feel the hurt of her heart again. The weight on her chest.
“I don’t know what to do anymore… for ten months, TEN MONTHS!, I’ve done everything I could think off. Nothing works.
So tell me: what should I do? What should I say?”
But there was only silence coming from his side of the car.
Same story as always the past months…
She started talking again. For over an hour they sat like that in the car.
She talking, no reaction from him.
In the end, she just told him to go to bed, he gave her a kiss on the cheek, she didn’t move or even looked at him, he softly said goodnight and stepped out of the car.
She waited until she saw the front door open and then left.
Little bricks jumping up as she rode away with too much gas.
She didn’t even care anymore.
While driving the three streets to home, she didn’t cry.
Even when she got home, not a tear was shed.
She was done crying.
She needed to be hard now.
So she did what she always did to protect herself: Shut down her emotions.
Build yet another wall to protect and hide her behind.
Before he had stepped out of the car, he had asked her if he would hear her tomorrow.
She just pulled up her shoulders, as if saying “I don’t know” , an answer she almost always got from him whenever she asked how it came that he was acting so different.
In her head in fact she was thinking “no way in hell”.
She was done.
The hurt was too much.
So she went in shutdown.
Her heart was hurting though.
It felt incomplete.
But her work was done…
She couldn’t keep being his girlfriend, best friend, mother, babysitter, walking agenda, planner, sex object, …
all at once.
It was too much.
It was dragging her into a deep black hole.
She could do no more.
From now on it was all up to him.
Although part of her didn’t have much faith anymore…
Because every time that he claims to work on it, that he’s doing his best (when he’s clearly not)
a part of her breaks.
In the end, there won’t be any parts left…