Thought Surgery…

Fuck Facebook. How can one like, on one picture, from one person, threaten to turn my life upside down. Create such a resounding bang in my existential silence that vibrates my cells with its loudness. What was my ex-fiancee thinking! Did he just reactivate his old Facebook to take a walk down memory lane? If so, why couldn’t he do it quietly and not “like” the picture of us in ignorant bliss, as to not disturb my silence.

My female brain is having a field day with this one. Thinking. Over analyzing. Bona fide thought surgery. Should I reply? Comment? Send a message?

No. I can’t. I won’t. Details of our break flood my mind. The unbearable pain that crippled me for almost a year afterwards. The me that couldn’t sleep, eat, or think. That girl deserves for me to be strong enough to look the other way. To not be the girl that’ll just grab at the first fucking bone he throws her way.

“I told twin I was gonna marry you one day,” he says. Twin is an army friend of his that looks eerily similar.

“Whatever” I reply. He doesn’t miss any opportunity to remind me I said no to his previous proposal and that I’m only delaying the inevitable. Deep down I hope so.

Christmas is creeping up and it’s been 8 months since I’ve seen him. The calls are more frequent now. We go in cycles like that. I’m lonely. Im in college with literally thousands and thousands of people and though I’ve managed to make some really good friends, I’m lonely. I’m lost still. I’m confused still. A year and a half in college and I’ve yet discover who I really am. I take a stab at sororities. I’ve been in an interest group for one for over a year because they just don’t take anyone… You have to prove yourself. It’s something to work towards. And I’ve made some awesome friends.

“Is sorority life really for you?” He asks. He said I was a quiet soul and partying and socializing wasn’t really my thing. I smirk on the other end of the phone line. I’m here trying to grasp at anything and everything to find out who I am, because certainly there’s got to something more behind my quiet exterior, and here he sums me up and makes it sound perfect. Substantial.

“Whatever,” I reply. I say that a lot to him, I hate it when he makes so much sense. “When are you coming home?” He told me a couple of days ago that he’s leaving the army. It’s not for him he says. He had called me more times than I can count with stories about how he’d gotten in trouble in the army. He’s not so good at taking orders. He’d finally gotten a general discharge under honorable conditions.

“Soon. I’ll let you know when I I know” he says. I’m so excited I can’t even see straight. What does that mean for us? Will we finally be together? He’s already the closest I am to anybody and he hundreds of mile away. My mind is in overdrive and my heart is racing with possibility at how the connection could grow when were finally close in the flesh as well.

Before I know it he’s home and he’s inviting me to to an amusement park with his family for Christmas. I’ve never been so nervous in my life. His family will be there. His mom, his stepdad and his triplet little sisters. What will they think of me? My nerves are all over the place and my thoughts are racing loud and clear in my head when I walk into Busch Gardens. I see him standing waiting for me and my nerves disappear. We meet each other halfway and hug so tight as if the other might disappear should we let go. And just like that…. Silence.

Sweet silence.

The memories haven’t stop coming. Though his coming home was almost five years ago, the memories are vivid and run rampant through my brain.

I need a distraction. Just a small dive bar will suffice. I don’t drink much but the atmosphere and music soothes me. There are far too many interesting people in NYC for me to be dwelling on an ex fiancé who is literally a thousand miles away. He doesn’t deserve my time or thoughts.

Isn’t he married now anyway?


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