The question is no longer ‘does he love me’ but ‘can I handle him not loving me?’ This question that haunts my every existence, my every being.
Thoughts of him crowd my mind, in the bathroom, work, lecture theatre, coffee shop. It’s like that 2kg of salt that will not run out.
Can I handle him not being around, him not calling me “Mami”? Not hearing his vigorous laugh, those hot tub moments, those surprise Monday morning visits? Those petty complaints and nagging…No I cant! So I decide to check myself into heartbreak hotel.
I pick up my towel, but no, isn’t it the same one we shared at the pool on our holiday at the Mara last summer? The toothbrush, we did share that too sometimes, or didn’t we? The tens of pairs of shorts and skirts too will be a constant reminder of him. “Go wear that lil’ thing that I like” he’d say.
The pendant I’m wearing has his initials on it. I pick up my car keys and try to ignore the key holder, which reads “the best girlfriend in the world”… That was a present he gave me for my 20 “something-th” birthday.
At this rate, it seems like I will toss away everything to do with him… My road to heartbreak hotel is not easy either… Full of landmarks of him it is. From the corner where we lost our way and had to use the help of Google earth, did I mention the road bend where I peed at 3:00am on the 13th of Feb, that little bend which we now coined ‘UnserStrasse’ (German for our street)…I guess I just did.
Regardless of the drawbacks… am leaving. You know what, am tired of these mind wrecking thoughts. Hoping for him to call me and throw in that four-letter-word, if at all to lift my spirits, if not to send my brain cells to an absolute high. These feelings that spell doom to my moving on. I’m checking into heartbreak hotel. Keys in the ignition, Bags in the boot. Stunners on. Phone rings, it’s him…