Dear Heart, I Hate You

Right?

Right.

I sent Cal a text asking how he was, and waited for a response. Sometimes it took him a while to get back to me, depending on how his day was going, so it wasn’t unusual when I didn’t get a message back right away.

But when minutes turned into hours, my what-the-hell-is-going-on meter started to ping. I constantly checked my phone for that familiar blue smiley face to appear, but it never did.

I was too nervous to call him, thinking that I wouldn’t be able to handle it if he ignored my call the same way he was ignoring my texts. One after another, I sent a handful of texts that all went unanswered, as well as a single e-mail on social media that still sat there unread.

Agonizing alone in my apartment, I flipped through our time together in my mind, dissecting the last time we had talked. I mentally raked through all our recent past, looking for anything that could give me a clue as to what was happening between us. But nothing made any sense. Nothing added up.

We’d had an amazing time together when he was here. When we spoke on the phone a few days ago, he told me how much he missed me and wanted to see me again. How could things have changed so quickly? In the course of three days, he’d gone from missing me to wanting nothing to do with me?

Why?

What reason could he have?

My heart ached, and I found myself wishing that I’d stayed closed off to love if this was how it was going to make me feel. Feeling nothing was a thousand times better than feeling this pain.

Determined to get an answer, I fired off another text, asking if he was alive. I meant it to be funny and assumed he’d respond right away with some smartass response. But he didn’t.

My next step was to call Tami for reassurance, knowing she’d be home from work by now.

“What’s up?” she chirped.

“Cal’s not talking to me,” I said, pressing my hand to the ache growing in my chest.

“What do you mean? Like you pissed him off or something?”

“No. I don’t know. It’s just he hasn’t called or texted me in three days.”

She turned serious, adopting her lawyer tone. “Have you called or texted him?”

“I haven’t called, but I’ve sent a couple texts.”

“No response?”

“No.”

“When was the last text you sent?”

“A few minutes ago.”

She stayed silent for longer than was comfortable, making me wonder what she was thinking. Finally, she said, “That’s weird, Jules.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

Damn it, I wanted answers. I’d already known that it was strange. But what I didn’t know was why he was doing this. And I wanted someone to tell me.

“I just don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “Did you guys get into a fight?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

I huffed out, ?

?I’m pretty sure I’d know if we’d gotten into a fight or not, Tami.”