Part III: Somethings Not Right

x. Notepads & Pizza

The wind bit at her face. The nearby window was open about an inch, but it felt like more. It was only 4:00 P.M. and the darkness had already consumed the sky. The air was clean and cold. They were finally in their own place. She was listening to the water fall in the bathroom across the apartment. He was taking a shower. The steam flowing from beneath the door fogged up her glasses that sat on a nearby bookshelf. It had been a long day. A great day.

Over pizza they shared smiles and laughs. He pulled at her hair and made a joke. They both laughed until they gasped for air. She had missed these moments. Nothing could replace them.
She had found lesser reasons to refer to her superhero anymore. There was only so many ways she could write about being happy, and she often found she was writing the same thing over and over. She scribbled the cliches in her journal anyway.

“Life is good.”

xi. Simply Put

She had taken her time to come to her thoughts. It had been a few months now and life had proceeded with many unforeseen events.

Her journal pages were frayed from the recent constant use- both good and bad. Things are never what they seem. Always harder, even when they’re easier.

She prowled along the sidewalk. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she would end up somewhere.

xii. Sleepless Escape

Sometimes the source of energy runs out for days. An energetic drought. And she was left running on empty until some other form of energy made its way back to refill the original supplier. She had to remind herself, droughts don’t last forever.

She laid on the bed, her eyes closing carefully, only able to sleep by tricking herself. She told herself that he’d be there soon, that he was just doing something important. She looked to her right. He was there at the computer. She pretended it was like old times and that he was just finishing up some homework. She let her eyes close for what she hoped would be the night, the whole time telling herself that he would be next to her soon. That was a lie.

Every night for the past few days, he had slept on another bed nearby. She still found herself sleeping on her side  of the bed, unintentionally waiting for him to join on his side , but he wouldn’t. She knew that, but didn’t acknowledge it. Denial in its finest.

Sleeping somewhat peacefully, still with that hope, she suddenly awakened to some noise and lights. He was still awake and just about to go to bed. The reality that she hated so much, the one where she would see just how much they weren’t together anymore, was about to happen in her face. She watched him as he walked over to his makeshift bed, grabbed his blankets, tossed them aside, and laid down unknowingly on his side. She knew it was just out of habit, not wishful thinking.

She would never be able to sleep now. But she wasn’t  completely lonely; her tears made sure to keep her company.

xiv. Now What?

Five years later, she walked the streets of Montreal, being the best of herself that anyone had ever known. Her past- long gone, and him, he was a distant blotch in her mind’s eye, not even a thought in her mind. The munchkin taking all the space in her belly was telling her that it needed food, and she happily obliged. Finding the nearest Mexican restaurant, she wobbled over to the terrace and found a nice table facing the bustling streets. Her phone buzzed. Peeling it out of her pocket, she unlocked it to find a series of random texts from her beloved beau, the true man of her dreams. As she replied with a meet up time, she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was him. Standing in front of her, unhealthy and clearly unhappy, he opened his arms for a hug.

She stared blankly at him.

“Hey, its me!” he said, a smile now surfacing, baring his badly stained teeth. The wind blew, sending a breeze of his body musk and booze her way.
She didn’t get up. Instead, she simply smiled and stuck out her hand.
“It’s good to see you,” she said sincerely, instantly being reminded that everything happens for a reason. “But I’m actually meeting my husband here, perhaps I’ll see you around.”
He was surprised. Had she really moved on? Had all the love she used to have had gone completely away? Was it possible?
Stammering, he backed away. “Yeah,” he smiled awkwardly, “of course. It was good to see you, and well,” he pointed to her beautifully round belly, “congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she said to what was now the back of him, as he walked into the busyness of the hustle and bustle, blending in and getting lost with everyone else. “Thank you very much.”

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