Here you are again. Rolled up in a corner, contemplating on how you could have corrected the mistake you made. It is one of those lonely nights you spend alone. Your phone is silent. No buzz. No vibration. A few weeks ago, your bedroom walls could affirm that you were happy. The scenario was different. This guy could call you on phone and your face would light up like the sun had dawned on you. Your cheeks didn’t even need blush. His vibe game was mighty. Tonight, it is different. Tables have turned.
You can’t stop yourself from wanting him back. You find it unbelievable that he actually told you “I can’t anymore. You are too much.” You begin questioning your self-worth. “Are my mood swings a tornado? Is my laugh that annoying? Is my tiny pot belly such a bummer?” You tell your friends you are fine, but deep down you are weak. Your feministic nature will check in and remind you that you should not waste your tears on a mere boy. You are better off without him. But your heart ponders as your mind wonders on the memories that the two of you made. The first few days will be a beckon of false hope. Your usual morning phone call conversations will now be with the mirror. Frequent self-talk on how you have the power to beat that break up. After all, all boys go.
You resorted to Google. Your history speaks of your situation. “How to deal with a breakup,” ” how not to cry over heartbreak,” “how to keep calm after a break up” and with zero satisfaction, you went an extra mile with “How to deal with a breakup, in the shortest time possible.” It has now been a few weeks and you feel worse than before. That is the thing with emotional pain; there is no manual or a drug that one takes to fight it. You feel it, and then it goes. Time heals wounds.
Then, your phone vibrates. You rush to your dressing table to confirm if you placed it there. It isn’t there. Then it hits you that you placed it in a corner in your closet to avoid your psychotic tendencies of texting him. You are convinced that it is him. You are assured Angel Gabriel must have visited him at night and reminded him of how valuable you are. That he shouldn’t just bail out on you. You reach out to your lips mumble “God, let it be him.” The temptation of unlocking your phone pattern is rising. But, you have to be clever about it. You don’t need to show him that you need him.
You leave the room and walk down the stairs to eat breakfast. Your mother is surprised by how your mood has certainly changed. The past few weeks, you have missed meals and she has started saying that your hips are reducing. You rant. Not after all the squats that you do. You tell your mother that school is wearing you out. The assignments and the tests are eating your brain cells. She nods her head pretending to have bought your lie. She gives you a dubious look but she walks away knowing all too well that your issues are deeper than that.
You sit down ready to devour the meal at the dining table. Then, your sister shouts your name. “Angie” You ignore her. You blame her presence for disturbing your moment of peace. Further -more, she does not understand the battle you are facing. She snitched to mom that you have been missing meals and crying a lot. For now, she is your worst enemy. You don’t want to look weak before mother. She then runs down the stairs and tells you that your phone is ringing. You leave your breakfast on the table and head over to your room. You check your phone and it is “Caleb Daystar Calling” The disappointment that sets on your face is prickly. You thought it was him but you have to snap back to reality and unravel yourself from being caught up in his web. You curse the day you were born. You even wonder why you had a phone in the first place. Just maybe, you wouldn’t have known your ex and you wouldn’t be in the situation you were in at that moment.
You pick Caleb’s call and he reminds you how you have missed classes and haven’t yet submitted your term paper. You quickly end the conversation by assuring him that you will show up to school the following morning. You assure yourself that the initial text that had come in before you went for breakfast was from him. Caleb has the burning desire of filing you in on people’s drama in school but you just don’t have time for that. He hangs up and you hastily drag your notification bar down to check your messages. You check your messages and with utter shock, it is a message from Safaricom. The sixth one now, reminding you of how you need to pay your Okoa Jahazi of 250 bob. You have a debt. You then remember you had used up the airtime to convince a boy who had already made the decision of leaving your life to stay. Was the debt worth it? Now you have a heartbreak to nurse and a debt to clear.
You break down. This is when it hits you that he left and he isn’t coming back. He is moving on with his life. He is even parading it on the gram with hashtags like “Finally free”. A hashtag with undertones only you can understand. You have to make peace with letting him go and then forgive yourself for screwing up. After all, if one leaves, it just means they were not yours in the first place. You then grab your laptop and find solace in writing. Hoping, this will be your salvation.
This article was written by Capital Campus Correspondent Hope Wambui.
