All her shock, her pent up anger, her frustrations, her despair and her desperation. All of it spilled out from her core in uncoordinated and sometimes incoherent verbal diarrhea. By the time she was done she collapsed into a useless heap on the floor, where she lay for a long while.
The past three months have been quite the roller coaster of emotions. Her ex never ever responded to her voice note. She never made an attempt to reach out to them again. The past three months she had reeled from anger to frustration to sadness to self-pity to downright defiance to the break up and everything it brought with it.
It also came with the very vivid dreams. Similar to the one she had just had, where everything felt so real only for her to wake up and realize it was all but a dream. These dreams frustrated her to no end. And most of them were sexual. What the hell was the universe trying to communicate? Since the break up she had not had any sexual feelings. She wasn’t remotely interested in sex but these dreams were quite the contrary to her living experience. What did it all mean?
Was she supposed to have sex with her ex? Was she not supposed to? Was she supposed to find someone else to lay? Or were those dreams her subconscious coming back to taunt her? It was happening so often and every time it left her disoriented.
This break up was breaking her.
She remembers a day she had driven home after shopping for groceries. She had parked her car and then had to carry her groceries into the house. Urgh! That was heart wrenching. Not to be dramatic, but it wasn’t about the groceries. It was the fact that this was something her ex used to gladly and willingly do for her, knowing how much she hated the whole balancing act of having to carry things in your hands while trying to figure out what to do with the car keys and house keys. It was silly little things like this that made her miss her ex even more. And it was made harder by the fact that she could sense her ex, almost like they were there. But she knew it was just her mind and her heart playing tricks on her. Her ex had ghosted her since the break up. How then could they even be there? Snap out of it! She scolded herself.
She needed to get out of bed and get going with her day. She was not going to stay in bed all day, hung up over someone who did not pay her any mind. Her hand that was still outstretched to the empty side of the bed slowly withdrew back to her side. The one on her chest clenched into a tight fist. 5, 4,3,2, 1 and she literally jumped out of the bed. Thank you Mel Robbins for the 5-second rule.
The routine of brushing her teeth and taking a shower went slower than usual this morning. Firstly from all the nostalgia, secondly from the hot shower but lastly because it was Saturday and she had no plan for the day. So why hurry? Just to make breakfast and crash in front of the telly? She walked to her living room and put on some music. Music always put her in a good mood. She scrolled through various playlists before settling on one that was sure to keep her spirits up. Volume on high she walked into the kitchen to see what she would make for her breakfast.
Their phone screen lights up. She is calling. That was at least more than 12 hours after they had expected her to call. They stared at the screen knowing very well that they would not be picking up that call. The second ring came almost immediately. Then the third. They watched the phone ring. Balancing tears. Still not picking the call.
Then the dings came through. Two dings. Two very long voice notes. They hesitated for a millisecond before pressing the play button.
Her voice, usually so upbeat and sing-songy especially when she is excitedly talking about something was now angry and tinged with so much sadness. They could hear the confusion in her words. The lack of comprehension over the reasons for the break up. Something there she said wasn’t quite clear. But the crying over words explained it all.
They could not hold their tears back any more. They let them fall, freely, silently, painfully down their face. Bracing themselves on the seat and tightly gripping the chair handles. Whatever it took to not grab their phone and call back.
These three months have not been a walk in the park. They are constantly in a sex battle with their ex. In their dreams at least. Always having these terrifyingly disturbing dreams. Where it starts out spicy and ends up with them fearing for their life. They could not explain it. How does a sex dream end up with them dead? The dreams were frightening and hella confusing.
They have been trudging through the motions of everyday life, trying to forget her. Trying not to go running back. Trying not to miss her. Trying not to weaken their resolve.
Once, they drove to her apartment and convinced the security guard to let them park within the compound but out of line of sight, and not let her know that they had come by. His silence cost her at least two thousand Kenya shillings. They did not have to wait long. They knew her routine well. Happens when you date someone for what feels like a lifetime. Watching her park, get out of her car, carry her groceries out of the boot then walk up the stairs to her apartment stung to the core. Simple everyday task but one of the things they used to do for her. They remembered how much she hated having to fit all the shopping bags in her hand and fumble with the car keys and house keys. Watching her do it for herself made them want to race out of the car and go help her. But they could not do that. Not anymore.
It was bad enough they were skulking about in the parking lot like a perv.
When they think back to that day they ended the relationship, they had no idea what this would do to them. In that moment, they had felt justified, powerful even in making that decision. They had made an irrational decision and were now paying for the consequences.
In that moment it had really felt like the best decision. Now it just felt like a stupid mistake. One they couldn’t make right. It has been too long since they spoke. Hell would have to freeze over before she would be willing to talk to them again, right? Or would she?
There was no time to think. Otherwise thinking would make them chicken out. It had to be done right away. Right now. They hurriedly put on their shoes and ran out of the house. The entire drive there was one filled with anxiety. Would she be home? Would she open the door? Would she be alone? I mean three months is a long time. Maybe she has already moved on. There was no way to predict if this would end well. But still they had to try.
They parked, stupidly taking two parking slots. Ran out of the car not even bothering to lock it. Leaving the security guard looking a tad bit confused. Taking the staircase two steps at a time.
They stood outside her door. They could hear music playing through the door. Some things have not changed. She loved music. She always had music playing in the background. It did not matter what she was doing. Music was a must.
They stood still, not able to move. Taking time to slow down their breath. Not sure if it was from running up the stairs or from what they were about to do.
3, 2, 1 they rang the bell.