It All Ends Anyway

When the relationship ends and one of your close friends asks what went wrong, the answer is in your head but you do not tell them.
You shrug and say something vague about how you both weren’t right for each other and how she wasn’t ready to really commit to you. You also make sure that you do not sound bitter, after all, you’re a well adjusted millennial who never speaks bad of old lovers.

Despite the half arsed explanations, your friends understand, they’ve always thought you incapable of falling and staying in love. They never utter the words but they are only carefully tucked out of sight, just beneath the surface.

The post-mortem is easier when you’re on your own in your apartment assailed by the silence which you usually find comforting. Today, boredom makes your mind wander but you’re not quite bored enough to turn on the television- who watches TV anyway?

You leave the apartment and walk to the store by the corner, the store where you’re a regular and you don’t need to pay a deposit before you take their beer bottles away. You’ve been a regular long enough for them to trust that you will return the bottles of beer eventually.

This image is just here to distract you

The first order was for two bottles then you tell yourself “fuck it” and ask for two more bottles of Goldberg, there’s not enough money these days for Heineken.

It takes just a little over an hour before there are four empty beer bottles by the bed but even inebriation doesn’t help your restlessness. Tipsy, but not drunk, you pull on a shirt and decide to take a walk.

Thoughts of the old lover return and it is comforting to have the night time breeze and the nonstop tooting of horns on the main road as a distraction to your serious thoughts.

READ: How Indulgence Makes Us Careless (A Very Very Short Story)

“It’s fine” She tells you even though you know it is anything but.

You feel Adichie’s fictional character, Richard after his limp dick episode with his lover, Kainene.

There’s a premonition on your part that these disappointing 30-second bouts of sex somehow symbolize an early end to this complicated romantic affair.

The relationship sputters on regardless, bogged by selfishness, uncertainty and that niggling feeling that you were just waiting it out.

The sword of Damocles falls three weeks later and it is a simple text message on Whatsapp.

“I think we should take a break”

“Sure” you reply within a heartbeat and you can almost hear her relief from the other end.

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