Everyone knows relationships are not easy.
I never expected to fall in love and live a fairy-tale or find my soul mate. None of that interested me and my rational mind. A relationship to me involved sexual and emotional intimacy with commitment between two people. It was nothing less and nothing more. I could love my parents but I never considered that sort of passionate love some people had. Not even sweet puppy love that I often saw couples sickeningly display in public. I’ve never been that kind of guy. I am not a sap for romance and can easily live without flowers, heart-shaped candy boxes, and candle-lit dinners. I’m an easy guy with simple needs. I don’t expect much but I do expect some respect.
So when I get a text while I’m having coffee with a friend, it’s quite unexpected. Lorna paused in her gossip about one of the interns and we both looked down at my cell phone vibrating on the table.
It isn’t if I didn’t know I was a person whom was difficult to get along with. Lorna was one of my few friends. I doubted either my mother or father would be texting me. So it had to be my boyfriend. He should have been in the middle of work at that time so I was at a loss at what he would need to text me about. I knew if it was something sappy I might be annoyed. Lorna always insisted I secretly loved that and I always responded with a question. Usually it was “how do you know me so little?” or something along those lines.
I set my coffee down carefully and replaced it with my cellular device. I hesitated for a split second before pressing the button to take me to the newest message. I read it curiously.
It’s amazing how things turn out. Maybe it is for the best but it never stops the full shock especially with something like what is displayed on the little digital screen. I read it over again just to be certain that it actually says what it does. I stand up in an alarming rate sending my chair backwards to create a loud “clack” sound on the tile floor of the coffee shop. My first thought is: WHAT. THE. FUCK.
“Simon?”
Her voice was a distant ring in my ear as all I could do was stare flabbergasted at my fucking phone.
It’s over. We don’t fit. Sorry.
- Kyle
That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever read. But what is even more ridiculous is how I received such a declaration. “What kind of douchebag dumps someone via text?!” I toss the phone down on the table as if it had scalded my fingertips.
“What?” Lorna looks bewildered and she cautiously picks up my phone to look at the message. I watched her face change from confused to shocked to angry. I up righted my chair and plopped down seething, arms crossed tightly and face narrowed like I’m ready for the attack.
“The absurdity of sending a text to do this! What does that even mean we don’t fit?” I ranted which would be only the beginning of the tirade. “I think I deserve more respect, like a face to face talk. Fuck, he never mentioned anything or complained. Where the fuck is it coming from? I mean really, this isn’t high school. How immature! Could he not even tell it to my face? He can’t even explain himself, the bastard. Who does he think he is? And after two years, he suddenly decides this?!”
Lorna remained silent as she listened to me go off, almost amused by the fact I didn’t seem sad about being dumped just appalled and angry at being broken up with by text. It was true that I wasn’t as miserable as someone in a loving relationship might be after being dumped. I was not in love with Kyle. He was simply my boyfriend that I had a fondness for at best. Or rather ex-boyfriend now since I started to abhor him more with each passing minute. Plus, as he had so eloquently put it, we were over and didn’t fit.
Lorna all of the sudden laughed. It was only right that I glare daggers at her as she did so. Was it really a laughing matter? I voiced this.
“It’s just so ridiculous it’s funny. Besides weren’t you just thinking of doing the same thing last week, though more properly of course,” she smirked a little and picked up her latte. “You don’t love him, do you?”
“No,” I sighed heavily. “But it’s the principle of the thing. Plus I was only contemplating. I would have actually voiced my thoughts if I felt the need to. This is the first time I’ve heard—well read—of his feelings if that’s what you call it. I just really can’t believe it!”
Our conversation drifted to other things though my mind was still boiling about this. If it wasn’t any clearer, I am a bit of a hot head. Was that why we didn’t fit? Just because I could be a little snappy or that I was cynical at best doesn’t mean I am an unfit person. He never had a problem with me before. What’s with the sudden change? It was all complete ludicrous to me.
“Then he said ‘the thing about Georgette is that she’s…she’s a widespread kind of woman, you know?’ and Casey is like ‘no, I really don’t know.’ Then he just walked away, it was hilarious the expression on Malcolm’s face!”
I managed to smirk but my heart wasn’t into our lame gossip stuff we always did as a ritual. It was usually entertaining, but at the moment I was all halfhearted. Mostly because I was still ticked and I could definitely hold a grudge forever. I have a feeling if I don’t get killed I am still dying at an early age.
“Malcolm really doesn’t get it, but…” Lorna paused. “You know what you should do?”
“Hmm?” I took a sip from the coffee but set it down again. It had gotten cold.
“Get even,” she said simply and tossed some of her wavy red hair behind her shoulder. The gesture was fluid and graceful. I had noticed quite a many stares from the few males in the coffee shop directed at her. She could have been a model with her tall slender form if she wasn’t pursuing a medical career.
“Even?” I repeated.
“Yes, that is exactly what you should do,” she grinned and stood up. We headed back to the hospital, her continuing to chat up a storm and me in contemplation of this concept of getting even.
It was the first week of September.
---
It was Friday the next week and I had the day off. I worked at the Sacred Heart Hospital in the city as a radiologist. It’s an easy job and I get paid extremely well.
Last weekend I had the inevitable exchange of things with Kyle. I went over to his apartment with a box of his shit and he had a box of mine. The coward didn’t give me an explanation of course. The air had been thick with tension and conversation was awkward, well on his part while I was rather coherent and vehement. I wanted some answers, but he kept saying the same crap or finding ways to go around everything I brought up. It was annoying to say the least. But I am a clever young man. I saw something from the corner of my eye, next to a picture of Kyle, me, and a few other friends near the ocean was something I knew wasn’t his. Kyle’s cell phone was sticking out of the front pocket of his jeans, a flip phone black. The cell on the table beside the framed photo was fancy and sleek, blue, with a charm of a frog that hung off the side from it. I hadn’t said anything about it, but I knew that he had found some twink to shack up with. Apparently he couldn’t have just told me that in the beginning, what a loser.
I had left there with only the thought that had been planted in my head by Lorna.
I decided to go out by myself to just have some me time maybe buy something and go see that new action film or maybe I’ll rent movies and take them home to watch on the couch with only my cat for company. I was ever so glad that Kyle and I never got to the point of moving in together, but then again he had always brought it up and I had always turned him down. Good thing too. I hate sharing my things.
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