Marx Girl

“Oh, Didge.” He blows out a deep breath. “In one week, you are already back to where you were five years ago, aren’t you?”

I nod through my tears. “I just wish…” I stop myself.

“You just wish what?’

“I just wish that I felt about someone normal the way I feel about Ben.”

“I know, baby. We can’t choose who our heart loves.”

I angrily swipe the tears from my eyes. “This is ridiculous. I’m a cot case and I am not even officially back with him. Three nights and look at me.”

“Why haven’t you told Tash and Abs?”

I shrug. “I just wanted to work out if things were going to be okay between us before I did. We decided to stay on the down low for a while.”

“Just tell them.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it. Not a word from you, though,” I remind him.

“Promise.”

I smile because Adrian can always make me feel better… or worse. He only ever delivers the truth.

“Don’t call him, Didge. You want a man to fall in love with, not a child who is emotionally unavailable and unwilling to address issues.”

“Yeah, I know.” I sigh sadly.

“See what happens. He might turn up at your apartment tonight, declaring undying love.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, right. I wish.”

“Well, if he doesn’t, by the time you get back he should get the picture, and if he can’t give you what you need he will hopefully be man enough to leave you alone.”

My heart constricts at the thought.

“If you just go with the flow you are always going to want answers, and it will always be a sticking point for the two of you. Every time you have a fight this will come up. If it bothers you now, it will bother you then.”

“You’re right.” I smile. “You are such a wise, old owl.”

He laughs. “For everyone else but myself.”

“Are you okay?” I ask. “I’ve just been talking about myself this whole time.”

“I’ll be glad when Joshua gets here this week.”

“Oh, that’s right, he’s coming home for a week, isn’t he?”

“Thank God.”

I glance at my watch. “I’ve got to get back to work. Thank you. You always make sense of things for me.”

“Stay strong, Didge. If he came back for you like he said he did, he will meet your terms eventually.”

I nod with a new determination.

“Yes, you’re right. Love you. Bye.”

“Love you, too. Bye, babe.”

It’s after 8:00 p.m. and I’ve just returned home from the gym. I ran ten kilometres on the treadmill to try and relieve my stress.

I’m so tired; worrying is exhausting. I click on my phone.

No missed calls.

I click out of it in disgust. He’s not going to call me. I already know he won’t.

Why did he come back here, if he’s not going to call?

It makes me sick that I just want to end this silence and call him.

One week back in my life and I feel like a lovesick puppy. I hate this.

Giving in to his terms and playing happily families really does sound a lot better than sitting here alone, going over something that happened five years ago.

Am I being stupid?

Am I being a drama queen. Is he right?

I walk over to the window and look down at the street below, desperately hoping I will see his car driving down the street.

I don’t.

I drag myself to have a steaming hot shower, and then I make myself toast for dinner and go to bed before I cave in and call, begging him to come over.

I stare into the darkness, searching the ceiling as my tears run down into my ears.

I glance at the clock.

3:00 a.m.

Being strong hurts.

Last week dragged. This week is just a nightmare.

I haven’t seen Ben for almost two weeks.

Twelve days, to be exact. Twelve days of running our last conversation over and over in my head. Twelve days of knowing I’m in the right, but teetering on the edge of forgiveness, just to hold him in my arms again.

The thing with us is that the highs are perfect. We go so high, I never want to come down. Those three days we spent together were so happy and loving, and everything I need in a relationship. But the lows… the lows are a dark place. I wouldn’t wish the way I feel at the moment on my worst enemy. I saw Eric yesterday. I ran into him at the grocery store and I felt nothing. It was like I didn’t even know him anymore. Maybe I never did. Looking back, I never gave him a chance. I was in love with Ben the whole time and was just playing a charade.

A fucked-up game of ‘I’m over the ex’. A game I’m really good at losing.

I’m at a bar with Tash and Joshua and Abs and, once again, I’m acting—acting happy… acting normal—when all I really want to do is go to Ben’s and beg him to come home.