Hell, don’t I deserve both?
Kicking at the covers with my feet, I pulled myself out of bed and rubbed my hands over my face and through my hair. I stumbled into my bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror, my swollen eyes revealing the truth of just how much I’d cried last night. As I splashed cold water onto my face, I reveled in the relief that it momentarily brought before it turned lukewarm.
Last night I’d been angry and hurt, the two emotions warring for first place in my mind and my heart, but this morning brought about a whole new level of emotion. The anger had dissipated slightly, and I found myself swimming in a sea of sadness. I had really liked Frank and thought we were in the beginning stages of something good between us, albeit at a snail’s pace. Regardless, I had been invested.
When I glanced at my phone again and saw the notification screen was still blank, I tu
rned it facedown and hopped into the shower to get ready for work. I was suddenly thankful that it was a weekday and that I could focus my attention on something other than Frank and his jerk-like behavior. A distraction would be good, and work was the best kind of distraction because I got paid for it.
“Hey, I know it’s your turn to drive, but I’m driving today,” Britney said as I headed into the living room with my car keys in my hand. “No arguments.”
I nodded, thankful for her offer. It was a simple gesture, but it was that type of kindness that made all the difference in moments like these. She knew I wasn’t all there mentally today, and that was no way to operate a vehicle in the heavy Los Angeles traffic.
“No word from him?” she finally asked as we drove. She’d probably been holding the question in since she’d woken up.
“Nothing.” Even I could hear how disappointed I sounded. My tone mirrored my heart.
“He’ll reach out today. I know it.” Her tone was certain, but I wasn’t so sure. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
“I checked my phone this morning— Never mind. It’s stupid.”
Britney shot me a frustrated glance. “Say it.”
I let out a long sigh. “I expected there to at least be a text from him, if not a voice mail. I didn’t hope or want there to be one; I knew that there would be. Because there was no way that Frank would go all night without checking on me, or seeing if I was okay, or apologizing, right? But I was wrong. So wrong.”
Voicing all those thoughts out loud, admitting them to someone else, it forced me to realize more than I wanted to. I had expected Frank to reach out to me because I assumed that he had more than friendly feelings for me. I still had more than friendly feelings for him. Right now, in this moment, after everything, I still liked him.
She nodded, keeping her eyes on the road. “I would think the same thing if I was in your position.”
“You would?”
“Hell yes! Are you kidding? Of course I’d expect a text message from him. Of course I’d expect him to check on me and give a shit about my feelings and my general well-being. It’s awful that he hasn’t apologized or tried to talk to you, and it’s making me not like him, if you want to know the truth.” She glanced at me, her expression fierce.
“I wish it made me not like him,” I whispered at the passenger window, but Britney heard me.
“Come again?”
“I still like him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed and I’m hurt, but I still like him. And I hate myself for it. Why can’t I hate him?”
“Because our hearts don’t work like that. Our heads do, but our hearts are never on board with our heads. That’s why they’re always at war, and we’re always torn between the two.”
Isn’t that the damn truth. Life would be so much easier if our heads and our hearts were on the same page, but they so rarely were.
“I’ll get it together. I’ll be fine eventually,” I said, not knowing who I was trying to convince, myself or Britney.
“I know you will. But it’s okay to feel everything you’re feeling. It just happened. And I still think there’s no way he goes another twenty-four hours without contacting you.”
I pursed my lips and kept quiet. My heart wanted to believe Britney, but I couldn’t let myself go there. Believing in things that ended up not happening would only hurt me, and I was hurting enough already.
When we walked through the doors at work, I was thankful for the reprieve of thinking about Frank. Pushing aside my emotions, I settled into my office and pulled up my calendar for the day. I planned to keep myself far too busy over the next several hours to even think about him, what he’d done, or the fact that he wasn’t trying to contact me.
Briefly, I considered turning off my phone again like I’d apparently done the night before, but decided against it. My willpower wasn’t strong enough to go quite that far. The moment Frank did contact me, if ever, I wanted to know about it.
I hated that he hadn’t reached out.
I hated that the hours continued to tick by without a single word from him.
And I definitely hated that I cared so much and couldn’t stop checking my damn phone.