Dear Heart, I Hate You

So I drowned them out with alcohol before realizing that alcohol lowered all my defenses and it made me miss him even more. I almost sent Cal another text before I had the gumption and self-awareness to stop myself. Thank God. I didn’t need any more reasons to dislike myself lately.

My cell phone pinged, signaling a text message, and I grabbed for it too quickly, knocking it to the floor. Groaning, I reached down and picked it up, seeing the dark blue smiley face staring back at me.

One dark blue smiley and my heart leaped into my throat with hope and fear. My thumbs were clumsy, fumbling as I tried to press the button to read the text. They were as desperate as my heart was.

I miss you.

My phone pinged again.

I was an idiot.

And again.

I’m so sorry.

Can we talk?

Texts came through at a rapid-fire pace, filled with apology and want. But they weren’t from Cal. They were all from Brandon, my ex-boyfriend.

Disappointment ripped through me like a hurricane. These messages stabbed me in the heart, each one assaulting me as it arrived. The words were all things I wanted to hear, but from the wrong guy.

All the right words. From the wrong guy.

Right words. Wrong guy.

Wrong guy.

Wrong guy.

The texts kept coming, the blue smiley face taunting me each time he appeared, and I was suddenly struck with violent urges that included smashing my phone with a hammer.

“Stop fucking smiling at me,” I yelled at my phone, but it pinged again to torment me.

I scrolled through the options and changed my ex’s icon to a black frowny face. I laughed at myself as it appeared, feeling victorious, as if I’d just won some secret battle. Battle of the text notification icons.

Take that, cell phone. You shall no longer smile at me! Only frowns from you!

I didn’t respond to Brandon. I had nothing to say to him, and I couldn’t have cared less about his feelings in the midst of my own. But when his texts turned into calls, I groaned and typed out a quick message.

Jules: I don’t think there’s anything to say at this point, Brandon. It’s been a long time. I’ve moved on.

Brandon: Moved on? You have a new boyfriend? I thought you didn’t have time, Jules? What the hell? Who is he?

Damn it. I’d said too much, hoping that it would make him go away, but I should have known that it would only wound his pride. How could I shut this down as quickly as it had come about?

Jules: I just meant that I’ve moved past us. I’m still just as focused on my work as ever, probably even more so. I would really rather not rehash the past.

I pressed Send and prayed he’d buy into my line of bullshit and go away.

Brandon: You don’t even want to talk this out?

Jules: There’s nothing to talk about.

Brandon: So you don’t want to see me?

Jules: No. I’m sorry, but I don’t.

I should have felt worse about being so blunt, but I lacked the desire to be anything else. The last thing I wanted was to rehash anything with Brandon, someone I hadn’t sincerely thought about in forever, if not longer.