Last night, a friend of mine invited me to go to her house because she knew what had happened. So I went there, had a cup of nice hot coffee, and we started talking.
“I was trying to help, but at the end, this is the result of my good intention,” I said, showing her the SMS that I received that day, “I practically put my head in the line, took the risk, spent the money to get the things done, but she did not appreciate it. Hell, she’s even calling me a liar now.”
She kept quiet. She knows very well when to speak and when to listen.
“Do you know that if anything were to go wrong, I would be in trouble? I will be the very first person to be in trouble because I put my head in the line for them to chop. Everything was planned accordingly, and everything was OK. Then at the very last minute, she wanted to put a stop to it. I had no choice put to do that. Yet, now, I was blamed for putting up a show and being accused for being a liar.”
She looked at me, not saying a thing.
“But I won’t blame her. Really,” I added, “because I know what she is going through and that’s that. There’s nothing I can do about it now.”
“You poor thing,” she finally said something, “you are just unlucky, that’s all.”
“You know, I went to the grooming room today and I saw Fluffy,” and I recounted the things during our short reunion earlier that day, “Do you know, from that very specific moment, I know something for sure. Yes, now I have a good steady job, I have a place where I can call home and I don’t even consider the house in my hometown as home. No matter what, even if there is a wife now at home, or even 4 wives, my life is not going to be the same again.”
I covered my face with my hands, inhaled deeply, and said, “Ever since I departed with Fluffy today, and not knowing when I will see him again, I just realized that my life will never be complete, at least for the time being. It will never be the same again.”
“Oh dear. You poor thing…” she said, and patted me on my shoulder.
I sighed, “I am okay. I will be okay. But I am not ready for this,” pointing at the phone, referring to the SMS, “I received the SMS when I was with Fluffy. I was so overwhelmed emotionally so I didn’t want to reply. She has the right to suspect anything she wanted to suspect. She has to right to call off this relationship. I know for a fact that no matter what I say at this moment, she will see it under a different light and she will continue to blame me. So I take my stance and I shall remain silent until the right time, even if the right time does not come.”
She took the phone, read the message, and said, “Oh my god, Adrian, does that mean…”
“Yes,” I interrupted her, “she wants a break-up.”
“Jessus!” she exclaimed loudly, “You guys have been going out for only 3 weeks!”
I smiled at her, a tired smile, “I know. This is also some sort of a record for me.”
She said, “But you did good, the things you have done for her. She just doesn’t know how to appreciate it. Give her time. I won’t be surprise if she were to SMS you tomorrow to apologize.”
“Maybe,” I turned and looked at her, “But I don’t want to give any hope on anything now. I don’t want to think about anything now. I am tired, not physically, but mentally exhausted. I can’t handle this now, so I rather not think. Right now I just want to keep my mind off things.”
“So what are you going to do when you get home?” She asked with concern, “Are you going to be OK?”
“Yes, I will be okay, as usual,” I replied, “You should know me well enough. I am a survivor. Besides, when I get home, first thing first is to light up the scented candle, and then take a long hot steamy shower, and use the Bodyshop Passion Fruit Body Scrub thing, and then just off the light and sleep as long as I want without waking up.”
She smiled, “That sounds like a great plan.”
“I know,” I answered, looking at the ceiling, “It’s not easy. But I got to move on. I don’t want to relapse back into depression again, so I must move on, and not think about it at the moment.”
“It’s not easy,” she said, “for the things that you went through. Don’t worry, things will get better.”
“I certainly hope so,” I answered, still looking at the ceiling, “Guess what. I think I will go ahead and get a dog of my own for companion. No one can replace Fluffy, but I really do need a good companion now.”
“That’s good!” she exclaimed excitedly, “You should have done that much earlier!”
“I know,” I explained, “but I was hoping that I would get the chance of getting Fluffy back. Now, the only hope is if she is migrating to U.S. with her father, only then she might want to let me take him. But she might send Fluffy to U.S. as well, you know, since money to them is just a small issue.”
I looked at the watch. It was pointing at 1:30am. I covered my face with my hands again, inhaled deeply, slapped my hands on my knee and stood up.
“I got to go,” I said, “I really need some rest. I have been tired and after seeing Fluffy, it was a mental drain for me.”
“You look tired. Go rest okay?”
“I will.”
I walked to the door, and while she closed the main gate, I turned, looked at her, and said, “I guess you can understand the feeling of not complete part.”
She looked at her living area, at the cats, and she said, “Yes, I can.”
“Night.”
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