He sent me a message a little past midnight, saying he was sad and needed to talk. Cussing the ungodly hours and the distance, he said we’d have to settle on synchronised drinking via Skype.
When I answered his call, ‘Let her go’ was playing on my Mac. Instantly he said – ‘I hate that song.’ I quipped back that I love it, but something in his voice, not sure if it was bitterness or sadness, made me stop the track.
He wouldn’t spit out what the damned thing was wrong, but he said it was complicated and I wouldn’t want to hear it. I told him to try me. I am the Queen of complicated . I couldn’t also shake off the feeling that he wanted to share, but was hesitant to. For the love of all that’s holy, he eventually started talking. He told me about you.
Now hold your horses, girl. I am not the other woman. I’m that woman whom guys are comfy calling ‘dude.’ I’m that someone whom they feel comfy sharing emotions with, without losing their perceived masculinity. Do not lump me in the ‘bitches’ category.
He kept on insisting it was a long story, and that basically you split up. I coaxed him to give me the details, cos if you aren’t yet aware, ‘the devil is in the details.’ And I kinda had a hunch that if he didn’t want to talk, he wouldn’t have orchestrated the synchronised drinking shit. I believe you know how much he hates drinking.
For three hours of my mobile data’s crappy connection and a few refills of my vodka, I lost count how many times I heard ‘I love her’ and ‘there’s just no one else for me’. He was devastated when you lumped him in the ‘cheater’ and ‘liar’ categories, when in fact, he has straightened up his ways every since he met you.
At one point, he reckoned to apologise just to have you back – but he wouldn’t want to admit something that he did not do. He also didn’t want to let go of whom he has become every since he started being with you.
No, he is not perfect – he never will be. No one else will be, but neither will you. You told him you loved him, and my ears are now bleeding for the nth time I heard how much he loves you, too.
He enumerated the reasons why he thinks it is over. He kept on asking himself if he loved you enough. He was micro analysing all the things he did say and did not say. He was scrutinising the things he did and did not do. He was taking all the blame, but I told him it takes two people to dance. And you know what broke my heart, it was when he said, ‘maybe I just stopped dancing.’ But was it him, or was it you?
There’s a part of me that says it’s over, but there’s the bit which keeps on reminding me that I love her, he said. I answered that a friend once told me ‘when you feel it’s over, it is over.’ He considered it for two seconds flat, but then said he thought you were the one. And we were back to square one.
From one woman to another, do not let your insecurities cloud your judgement, and maybe bring the drama two notches down, or maybe five. But you have, or you once had, a good guy whom you love and who loves you, but you started throwing accusations around. He is hurting, and I know you are, too.
When he got all these emotions out, and was starting to sound so resigned, I told him it was time he slept on it. He thanked me for listening to his rants and whatnot, but I told him that’s what friends do. I might have lost three hours of a good night’s sleep, something I rarely have the chance to enjoy. Just so you know, between you and me, you just lost so much more. You let him go.