And I dont regret it.
But let me explain, let me explain…
Im not trying to be an ambassador for drunk-texting here.
But this was different.
William Iven
I figured if he wasnt going to text me, then I wasnt going to text him, either.
I thought time would make it easier, but instead it only got harder.
I missed him too much to be stubborn anymore.
But still, I kept myself from texting him.
He just walked right past me.
(Proof that things do happen when you least expect them.)
William Iven
Surprisingly, it told me to walk away.
Quietly, casuallyas though he wasnt the person Id been thinking of for months.
As though he wasnt anybody I ever knew at all.
I just strolled past pretending that I hadnt seen him, and he just pretended he hadnt seen me.
But we both knew.
We both always knew.
Those first few steps made me feel proud.
Walking away from him was potentially the only cool thing Id ever done in my life.
Almost like it was violently flipping around inside my chest.
And yet I walked away.
Nothing about that felt like the right thing.
I know I could have made him laughI always could.
The next nightafter thinking of him all dayit wasnt so easy.
I just wanted to text him.
There was no way I was talking myself out of it this time.
For better or worse, he had seen it.
Id forced him to remember me; now all I had to do was wait.
Maybe hes planning out the perfect response.
Its been so long since we spoke its obviously going to require some serious thought.
Five minutes passed, and still nothing.
It doesnt take this long to think.
But screw him, I dont want him to text me anyway.
Although, in his defense, its not like I sent him something that needs a response.
I just sent him a statementno question marks.
Next time Ill have to specifically ask him a question so he has to reply.
Then again, if he texts me just this once I wont need him to text me again.
Just, just, let him text me now.
After another five minutes the sad reality dawned on me.
Im never going to speak to him again.
Then after another five minutes I took a deep breath and calmly said to myself, Okay.
Im never going to speak to him again.
But after he ignored my silly drunken message it was obvious that was never going to happen.
Or, even worse, he saw it and felt pity for me.
Like, Aww, hun.
Missing me a little bit, are ya?
It always made me believe the door was still open, if only a little bit.
This blatant ignoring of my message was the abrupt slamming of the door ending I needed.
Obviously it was disappointing, but I wasnt sad.
I couldnt be sad.
He was really gone, and it was as simple as that.
The wine was all out of my system.
He was all out of my system.
And that was worth everything.
