It’s not you, it’s me

One long distance relationship after another, I feel tired.

“Give me back my money. You f***ing $***.”

Anger is always at the tip of my tongue.

“I will do my best ma’m, but can you tell me the problem.”

She slammed the phone too hard. I just shivered.

“Coffee?” Kate raised her hot cup of Starbucks.

“No. Thank you.” I honestly love to. I just wish she asked me before she bought one for herself.

Two fingers on my forehead. I opened one more button of my white Oxford shirt.

“Can we talk about this tonight? I’m at work.” I sent the message to Andy before turning my phone off. I feel tired and my head is like being cut in half.

Playing Solitaire, I took my mind off the world and focused on the cards. Shit. Another caller. I used to dance ballet when I was 4 but at 9, my mother stopped the lessons, realizing I no longer need someone to look after me.

“Hi.”

15 minutes before we go home, Carly always washes her face. I want to tell her that it’s causing her breakout but she’s a lot more sensitive than her skin.

“Hi.” I smiled at her, taking the lipstick from my makeup bag.

“Andy is not here, right?”

I met her eyes in the mirror.

“Are you cheating?” She said powdering her small mouth.

I pressed my lips together and slipped the Dubonnet back into the black pouch.

“Bye.”

I should have told her about her bad habit to hurt her a little.

“Hey.”

Tom is holding a half-consumed cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. Putting it back up to his lips, he sucked air into his mouth and dribbled the smoke out. I am standing a meter away watching the smoke fuse and disappear with the air we both breathe.

7 months. Watching him standing with the same black loafers and jeans, after 7 long months, with the same short messy hair and rough chin, I feel like a matchstick wanting to scratch against him.

Same crooked smile and sly eyes, his lips are almost back into mine.

“You know I hate the taste of smoke.”

He bit his lower lip. Smoke never seemed to touch those soft peach lips.

“I miss you.” He flicked the butt of the cigarette onto the pavement and stepped on it.

It feels like he stubbed it out in my heart. Every cell in his body is just made up of f***ing insincerity.

“You could have just sent it to my apartment.” I said, following his long shadow with slow small steps.

“It’s heavy. I want to make you feel burdened for leaving me.”

Looking at the new black high heels on my small feet, my heart blistered.

Standing and looking as straight as I can, I watched the closing elevator doors before us. His finger reached for the 11th floor button.

“Our monthsary.” He said, putting his hand on my back

It hurts everywhere he touches me. 36 months, Tom, that’s how long you had been poisoning my body. The hotel corridor was wide and well-lit, its floor covered with a dark green carpet that seemed cheap and dirty.

“I am very tired. Where is it?”

He inserted the key card in the wall slot and all the lights turned on.

“You know that I’m your package right?”

My hand reached for the knob. His arms locked me in. Pushing me harder against the door, his mouth was on my neck, sucking all the air in my body.

“You cheated on me.”

“You also did.” He kissed me in the head and I crumbled at his feet.

“I’m staying for good.”

Is it?

Tom walked to the table to get his opened pack of Red Marlboro. Slipping a stick in between his lips, I took the cigarette from his mouth before he can even light it.

“Genna.”

I took the key card and walked out of his door.

“25.24.”

All the lights inside the room will turn off soon.

“14.13.”

I looked at my face in the mirror of the comfort room. I tasted his mouth through the stick. Taking a lighter from my pouch, I lit it and sucked more of his air in. Choking, I locked myself in a cubicle.

Andy doesn’t know about Tom. He doesn’t know about my father. He only knows about my dreams but none of my nightmares, taking the phone from my bag, I dropped it in the toilet.

The key card felt cold in my back pocket. I still shivered even with a lit cigarette stuck between my lips. Not even my tears are warm; it’s excruciatingly and horribly cold.

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