Bestie

“You hardly discouraged it, Michael,” I argue, feeling my chest tighten. Is he right? Was it too much? Am I too much? “You were awfully eager to play along.”

He snorts. “I’m a man, of course I was.”

That hits me like a hammer to the chest.

“We might have talked about sex a lot,” I say, my voice growing hurt, “but we shared so much, too. We were close. You can’t deny that.”

“Honestly,” he says, “I think you would have allowed that with any man that was giving you what you needed.”

That hits me so hard, I’m left speechless. Is he saying that it wouldn’t matter who I was with, or what they were saying, that I’d go along with it so long as sex was involved? Does he see me as that shallow? Am I that shallow? My heart twists in the most painful way, and shame washes over me. I thought I gave a huge piece of myself to Michael, I honestly thought I opened myself in a way I hadn’t before.

Is that all he saw?

Is that all I put across?

“I can’t believe you’d say that,” I snap, self-defence mode kicking in. “After everything, I can’t believe you could honestly say that about what we shared. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Don’t blame this on me, Molly. I’m just being honest with you.”

“I loved you!” I scream so loudly I scare even myself. “You stupid, stupid piece of shit. I loved you. I meant that. I thought what we shared was real.”

“I loved you, too, but we both know it couldn’t work.”

“You’re a selfish, terrible person, Michael. Maybe you did me a favour after all.”

I end the call and throw my phone across the room, sobbing angrily. I’m a lot of things, I know this, but I’m not a slut and I’m not easy. I love sex, but I also love with everything I am. I was raised to give it all. I gave it all to Michael. At least, I thought I did. I thought he felt it. I thought it mattered. But I was nothing more than a bit of entertainment until he was able to move on and find someone else.

Pig.

Fucking jerk.

I turn to my side and pull my blankets up, and then I let the tears come.

Sometimes, it feels like all I do is cry lately. Angry, raw, broken tears that don’t seem to ease the ache in my heart, no matter how much they fall. Crying is supposed to ease the pain inside, but it seems it just keeps building and building. The worst is the feeling of desperation, that one that claws at your chest and makes you feel worthless, it makes you want to lower yourself to begging, it makes you want to be that person that clings on, even when all hope is lost.

I’m not that girl, dammit.

I soak my pillow with tears and close my eyes, letting the pain consume me once more, until I fall into a fitful sleep.

Some days it feels like this will never get better.

One step forward, two steps back.

~*~*~*~

I wake up with an ache in my heart that seems heavier than last night. I push up and glance over at my phone on the ground, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I stretch, rub at my chest, and then climb out of bed and walk over to my phone, picking it up. I see a couple of new messages and my heart sinks. If Michael has text, I don’t know if I want to read them. I can’t face them. I’m not even sure if I want to anymore. They hurt too much.

I slide my phone unlocked and see they’re from Roman.

My heart lightens a little.

R – Morning Bestie.

R – How are you?

I walk back over to my bed and sit down, responding.

M – Hey! I’m okay. Dickface finally called last night.

R – What? What happened? Are you okay?

My heart warms at his kindness.

M – Not really. He said some pretty harsh things 

R – Like what? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, but I’m here if you do.

M – He basically said that I was easy and would have cared about any man willing to give me sex.

R – What a dick! You know that’s not true.

M – I don’t know anything anymore. He made me question myself.

R – Don’t let him get to you. He’s just a giant dickface.

I snort but find myself smiling.

M – You’re right about that! How are you?

R – Had a shit night, too. She rang me.

Oh, no.

I respond quickly.

M – What? Seriously? Are you okay?

R – Yeah. I told her to stop bothering me, and to just let me move on, but she won’t ay.

That makes no sense to me. She was the one who broke it off with him. She is seeing another man. What kind of bitch is she?

M – What? Why? That’s so unfair.

R – Yep. She just keeps me hanging. She’s seeing someone else, but when I ask her to stop contacting me and just let me move on, she won’t do it.

What a selfish, self-centred person.

M – I’m so sorry.

R – Yeah. Worst part is I just start feeling better, and then she calls and I’m right back at the start.

M – That really sucks! We should meet up. You can tell me about it.

R – Yeah for sure.

M – I’ve got to get ready for work. I’ll talk to you later, okay?

R – Okay.

I put my phone down and walk out of my bedroom, wondering why any woman would break up with someone, move on, yet at the same time not fully let them go. She couldn’t possibly love him, because she would have never been able to move on so easily, so what the hell does she want from him? Poor Roman. There is nothing worse than loving someone with your whole heart, and having them rip it clean out and yet refuse to let you heal.

Bitch.

“Yo, sista!”

I’m barely into my kitchen when the front door flings open and Jack comes bounding in. He’s got two coffees, the legend, and a huge grin on his face.

“I could have been naked, Jack. Ever think of that?”

He snorts. “Like I’d care, you’ve got a great ass.”

I roll my eyes and walk over, taking the coffee with one hand and flipping him the bird with the other.

“What are you so happy about at this hour of the morning?”

He grins. “She spoke to me last night.”

I glance at him while sipping my coffee. “The girl who is playing hard to get?”

He nods. “Yep. She spoke to me, and it wasn’t to tell me to fuck off.”