A couple days had passed, and a few tears that followed. I woke up and went about my day like a normal person, except I had a mission that I wasn’t going to sit around and feel sorry for myself, beside the fact that it just felt weird. Because even though he lives in another state, I felt a new sense of loneliness I hadn’t felt before.
I may have grown a little bitter, vindictive, and resentful because in my mind, sitting around meant that he won. But I also know that it’s not a competition, or a true breakup, despite the fact that it truly feels like one.
Lucky for me, I had plans with my best friend to go out on the town and enjoy some of the new local places that just opened. My version of not feeling sorry for myself was to make myself look irresistible, fun, and full of life. I put on my shortest dress (with class, of course), and strapped on my favorite heals, curled my hair and wore a bright shade of pink on my lips; I was ready to go.
Walking into the bar, I spotted almost no one, which was weird for happy hour on a Saturday night. Shelby was still on her way, so I sat at the bar and struck up a conversation with some of the handsome bartenders. *Side note: If he was lonely and wanted to go out on dates, then all be damned if I wasn’t.
Shelby strode in, but I was having pleasant conversations with the gentleman serving me, so having her there was a delightful bonus. Soon, though, the conversation shifted from the four of us to just us two. I broke the news that we had decided to take a break, and despite the fact that I know she doesn’t like him, she was rather sympathetic.
The night passed, and the drinks flowed. Apparently they flowed enough for me to feel that idle confidence that hadn’t been seen in a while, and I left my name and number on the coaster for him.
I had hoped he would text, but I didn’t. In reality, I wasn’t ready for him to, but knowing that I had, albeit a few days later, the balls to do something I hadn’t done in over three years.
He called, and we went out. Nothing to it. We didn’t touch, hug, or even kiss. It was nice to talk to someone, have them listen, and show a genuine interest in my life, but it wasn’t what I really wanted at that time.
We said we would do it again, but I think we both knew that we wouldn’t. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t right.