You see, that night, shortly before Christmas, when I thought you were looking at my mobile phone messages but made nothing of it, I was right. You were helping me pair up my blue tooth headset.
Then New Year’s came and you were sullen, dark. Ironically, the more you pushed and interrogated me, the more I wanted to seek solace elsewhere. I was tired of the questions. Exhausted by you going through my things, my computer, my papers, my phone.
How does one lie lead to another so easily? You see, I thought that this would die a death. That we’d been through so much, most of it good. Let sleeping dogs lie. You yourself have said how apathetic you often are. I usually had to remind you, coax you, to do the simplest of things. Of course, this time you were all systems go. You couldn’t stop digging. You would not rest.
And after all the truth came out. I think what maddened you most was not the hurt or betrayal but your bruised ego. I’m a hopeless romantic. I know that in your place, faced with someone I loved, who had apologized and promised the earth, I would only have been too glad to have them back. To heal the wounds, seeping with pain and remorse and regret.
But who can’t understand your fury, your name calling, your slights? And so we part, at last speaking but miles apart.