I'd never meant to…I'm so sorry baby…

Look, I'll talk to you later…

Please give me another chance…

Bye

I'll call you up la-

 

Little drops of condensation clinging onto the windowpane. Window pain.

 

The wind rustled through the trees. The moon… it looked as though it was playing a little game, now visible against the dark sky, now hiding behind a thunder cloud, now peeking from behind one to see if I was watching…

 

Yes little moon, I'm watching… Come out and play…

 

I exhaled and my breath made it's own little patch of moisture on the glass. My imprint. I raised my hand and drew a little squiggle. Hallucinations. I see his name in the squiggle. I wipe it off with my sleeve.

 

He had become a part of my life, a part of me. A sort of everyday thing. Wake up, eat, sleep, breathe. Him.

 

Maybe I'd just gotten used to having someone being there for me. Someone who'd wait while I picked myself up after I fell. Someone who'd be, not ahead or behind, but just walking beside me. Being with me.

 

There was a weird heavy feeling inside me. And I couldn't breathe, my throat felt constricted. I put my head back onto the wall and forced in a deep breath of air. It didn't help. I just felt more suffocated.

 

I lifted my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. It was cold. And the little window seat mom put in when I was about ten didn't give me much room to stretch out. I considered moving over to my bed but I didn't do anything about it. Just sat there.

 

My cell phone vibrated I picked it up and read the text.

 

I'm really really really sorry babe… I swear I didn't mean to hurt you… please, please give me another chance, I promise I'll treat you right...

 

Sure babe, cheating on me wasn't meant to hurt me.

 

Am I hurt? I'm not sure… Wait, I'm not hurt... I just feel… numb.

 

I can't really feel anything… Just a sort of… emptiness. Or like something was missing. Almost as though a part of me wasn't with me anymore… Well, yeah… He was a part of me.

 

I rubbed the black screen with my thumb. Unlock. Security Code: *******

 

Even my security code had something to do with him and me, with us. Wait, with ex-us.

 

All that had to go. Moving on is gonna be hard if all these things are constantly reminding me about him.

 

Saved messages. So many folders… When we were just friends, when we weren't yet used to being together, our little fights, all the times we made up. Little 1kb reminders. Then those notes I'd made, the little paranoia attacks, those super happy moments that there just had to be a record of, the little insecurities, those love notes I'd never sent…

 

There's something oddly symbolic about deleting messages. But I don't know whether I should delete them or read them once before deleting them…

 

As compensation, I ended up deleting him from my contacts. What was the point? I had his number imprinted in my head anyway… I don't think I'll forget that anytime soon…

 

Wait.. I mean, did I really have to do all this to forget him..? What if I didn't have to forget him?  What if I gave him another chance…?

 

I mean, we'd been together for so long… and he was my best friend, not just my boyfriend. If I just… end it, I'd be giving up on not just a relationship but also a friendship… and that would suck pretty bad…

 

It's not like he's been seeing her behind my back. Well, he sorta has, but it wasn't much of a 'seeing', just making out… and that too just twice or something…

 

And he came up to me and apologized, after the third time. After the third time.

 

It's not like I'm a boyfriend-Nazi… He could flirt with whoever he wants, just that I wanted him to be honest about it… but then making out and feeling her up doesn't really count as flirting, now does it?

 

Well yeah, he was flirting with her, but it was on a whole different level…

 

Would have been so easy if I could just fast forward time and see what I'd have done and how that'd turn out…

 

It was just that… This was my first relationship that had actually worked out for a change… and my ex had cheated on me and led me on while naïve little me believed he was the perfect guy.

 

So when everything worked out with this guy, I'd just…

 

Taken it for granted, I suppose… That everything would be okay, that everything would always be okay… Can't believe that I was such a silly little girl.

 

My phone vibrated again…

 

Please reply… I know I've hurt you so bad and I'm so sorry… Please let's start over, I promise I wont hurt you ever again….

 

I typed down my reply…

 

Hey…

I'm… not sure I'm hurt actually… Just that it was a *little* unexpected… Okay, very unexpected. But I don't know whether getting back together is the right thing, not just for me but for you too…

Give me ten minutes. I'll call you up.

 

And sent it.

 

First of all, I didn't think getting back together was the right thing for me. Cause if he cheated on me the first time, he probably would the second time. And I wasn't really looking forward to being cheated on by the same guy twice. Wait, I wasn't looking forward to letting myself be cheated on after I'd gotten a warning. It'd be like stepping in front of a moving train, which is a stupid thing to do, unless I had suicide on my mind. But I was too young to die.

 

Second, it couldn't be  right for him. I mean, he made out with her because he wasn't happy with me. I don't think he'll ever admit it, but that is probably true. And right now, our friendship still exists, I mean, it can still be picked up and dusted. But if we went out again, we'd probably break up because of a worse situation. I mean, there's always a possibility. I'm a pessimist.

 

I picked up the phone and dialed his number. Then before it started ringing, I got up, picked up a jacket and wore it over my T-shirt and shorts. I climbed into bed, propped myself up on my pillows and turned out the lights. I turned on the night light and set it to the lowest possible. Perfect ambience for a long night. As I cuddled my pillow, I pulled the blanket to my neck and reached for the phone. I dialed his number for the second time that hour and waited for him to pick up.

 

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Thank you Fergie, for the beautiful song, Big Girls Don't Cry, whose title I have shamelessly plagiarized for this story. I don't mean to infringe anyone's rights, it's just that Big Girls Don't Cry would be the song that would be playing on replay if ever I was in the situation this character is in.