How things change

Natasha once told me how and when things for her changed between us. How she knew we were more than just casual friends.

She had been meant to see me that night, in a social setting with other hockey people. It was a few minutes from her house. But she didn't come.

As the night wore on we exchanged more text messages, she told me how desperately sad she was. She was driving around aimlessly in the dark, crying. She was possibly dangerously sad.

Together we talked her through that evening. We met for coffee the next morning, I had it off work by coincidence, and she gave me the gift of a sunflower to say thank you for being there.

She said on more than one occasion I might have saved her life that night.

Today I am the one who is desperately, and dangerously sad, and I wanted to reach out to her.

I know you hate me, I wrote. I know you don't ever want to see or talk to me again, but I don't know who else to turn to who would understand.

You once said I saved your life. Now it's your turn.

The twist is, she has blocked me on Facebook messenger.

I knew she had blocked me on Facebook, and blocked me on Instagram, but it didn't occur to me she would proactively block me on messenger when I had made no attempt to speak to her through it.

I deleted her phone number and all of her messages the day she dumped me, and now I have no way to reach her.

One or two weeks ago I set up a Hotmail account and took a guess at her email address. Maybe it would be her Instagram handle, maybe it would be firstname.lastname. I sent a message saying I still missed her.

I wish I hadn't, but I did miss her and it hurt. And I naively thought maybe she missed me, too.

All I know is if I happened to get her email address right by chance, and the message didn't go to Spam, she didn't reply.

Today I am desperately, and dangerously sad, and I don't know what I thought she would say if I contacted her, but I have no way to reach her.

Instead, this is where it ends.

I have been sad for too long. I was sad long before I met Natasha, or Elizabeth for that matter. And this is where it ends. If you believe in signs, this is it: there was a chance, and the universe has said no.

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