How to break a heart in 5 days

It is day 5 of the slowest week of my life. I’m counting from Sunday because Sunday is the last time I heard from you.

YOU.

It’s now Thursday. You are trying to punish me. You are attempting to make me feel bad for daring to express an emotion that made you feel guilty. Well you needn’t have worried, because the joke is on me once again.

I feel anxious, alone and inherently sad as I sit and wait out this wall of silence. How many more days will it be until you decide that my time in isolation has been sufficiently served?

You might be surprised to learn that for large parts of the day I feel ok – I make outrageous, close-to-the bone jokes to my friends and colleagues. Everybody laughs. They always do. I always make people laugh. But of course you already know that don’t you? You know that because I make you laugh – it’s the only thing you really like about me. You find my ability to laugh at myself during my most bleakest of times especially endearing.

But, and here is the kicker, at the same time every day, when I’m stuck in traffic at the roundabout to the A404, I start to cry. This has happened every day, for the last 5 days, at 5.40pm. Am I crying over you? Well I do find the bare Autumn trees that loom over my car pretty terrifying, and you do know how anxious I get in traffic, so maybe it’s just me being, well you know, me.

Or maybe it’s because when I sit alone in my car, where not even the movement of traffic can distract my mind, the brutal realisation that you will be fully aware of how much your silence is hurting me really sinks in. You realise, and yet you are choosing to enforce it anyway. Yes, you are the reason I am crying.

You could send just one message. You could make just one call. You know that this is all it would take. That this is all it would take to end it. You could call to say that you’ve realised how much this friendship is hurting me, that you now know how deeply unbalanced our feelings are towards each other. You could say, and you should say, that you are sorry that you rely on me so much when you can’t give me everything that I want in return.

So come on, come on and just say it. Just call me and say it so that I can hear it, so that then I can grieve properly. Do you think I deserve to be left in the angst ridden corridors of purgatory? Patiently awaiting my fate whilst the tears fall freely and silently down my cheeks?

JUST SAY IT.

Please just say it. We’ve come too far now, we’ve tried too many times to pretend that we can just be friends. We can’t be friends. We can’t be friends because all that happens is my heart gets pummelled, blackened and bruised more frequently. I can feel it writhing in agony right now, I can feel it slowly giving up, ceasing to beat, defeated and useless, unable to fulfil it’s purpose, unable to be mended.

YOU DON’T LOVE ME.

I know it, you know it, every-damn-body knows it. But I need to hear it from you, I really do. Because if you think that you are not complicit in the way that I feel, if you think that you have not blurred any lines and that you have not willed and encouraged me to fall in love with you over the last 10 years then you are only lying to yourself.

What did I do to deserve the cold shoulder for these last 5 days? I know exactly what I did. At approximately 5.30am, after 17 hours of partying, I quietly slipped away from the party without saying goodbye to you. I knew that you were angry when you called me back for that awkward embrace – I’m sorry that I didn’t make eye contact with you, I’m sorry that the pain was written all over my face for your friends to see – I was trying to force it back inside, I really was.

I didn’t say goodbye to you because I recognised all too well the movements you make when you want someone, and at 5.30am, during that after-party at your best friends house, that someone wasn’t me. So yes I left. I removed myself in order to give you room to breathe. Still, no one pointed the finger of blame at you, so why are you so angry at me?

Is your anger an admission of guilt? Do you feel guilty because you purposefully don’t ever whisper a single word to me about any other women in your life? You do this and yet you believe that you behave exactly as a platonic friend should.

Oh please. This isn’t my first time at the rodeo and I am not a child.

Pretending that there is no one else vying for your attention romantically, as you consistently do, is a thing we all do to solidify someone we want’s trust in us.

So do you want me? No. But you do want me to want you.

SO YOU ARE A LIAR

You are not only being dishonest with me but you are also being dishonest with yourself and I am sick of apologising for being the author of my own misery. You are the ghost writer of it, you always have been.

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