You phoned today. It had been a long time since we spoke, about three years. There was a message to deliver. I waited, but there was only silence. I felt your surprise; you expected me to talk, but I didn’t. I don’t like silences on the phone, and you know that. You expected me to chatter, to laugh nervously or to ask you why you had phoned; it is both a comfort and a failing.
1. I’m sorry I locked us out of our apartment building that night last January, while you were dragging our Christmas tree out to the curb and it was 20 degrees outside, and we didn’t have our coats or our phones. But I saw the tree catch in the wind like a sail, and I could tell that you were about to run out into the street after it, and I wanted to help you, so I ran outside, too. But you know how forgetful I am and how absentminded, and I guess we’d be stranded like that a lot more often if you were that way, too.
From the day I met you, there was a spark. A connection. I had worked and flirted before, but this was something new. This was a connection. We got to know each other on the office email, and at coffee breaks, we started emailing outside of work and got closer. Then on my 21st birthday, you kissed me. It was magical. Perfect.
It’s been about 12 weeks since I saw the awful texts that confirmed my suspicions that you were unfaithful. For two years I had been questioning whether you loved me as I felt so unloved – so much so that I occasionally asked if you were having an affair. And I thought you were avoiding me. You assured me every time that you did love me and were not having an affair, which made me feel happy that things were fine again, for a while.