I had been staring at my cell phone for about two hours now. The number was completely dialed and all I had to do was press the talk button, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. My heart was beating out of my chest. I wanted so badly to be able to call him and tell him how I felt. I wanted to tell him how much I wanted to be with him again. Why was this so hard? All I had to do was call him and tell him how I felt. That’s it. It didn’t matter if he felt the same way about me, at least he would know and I wouldn’t keep asking myself “what if?”
Another hour passed, and then another, and then another. Why couldn’t I just do it? I looked at myself in the mirror and told myself that I could do this. I had to give myself courage. I got up off the bed and rummaged around in a drawer in my dresser. I found a picture of Jake and me sitting on a couch. He was giving me a peck on the cheek while I was laughing and staring at the camera. My mind flashed back to that night. We were goofing around on his couch with his camera. All we did was laugh that night. I couldn’t help but smile when I thought of him. That was the night he told me he loved me.
We had been dating for a year at that point. Our relationship had been going great ever since he asked me out during our freshman year. It was March of our sophomore year when I received a text message from him saying that he had met someone else. “I think it’s best if you just move on,” he had said. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read it. I felt so many emotions all at once. I was angry that he didn’t have the decency to tell me to my face, upset that he didn’t love me anymore, and scared of what I was going to do without him. I came back to the present and felt a tear roll down my cheek. I wished I could crawl into his warm arms and have him hold me tight. I wished he would dry my tears and tell me everything was going to be okay.
I knew I was wasting my time crying over him. I had always known, but I didn’t mind. I wanted to waste my time over him. I didn’t want to get over him.
I wiped the tears from my eyes when I heard the doorbell ring. I walked to answer the door and when I opened it I saw the face of the person who had caused me pain all these months.
“Hey Keri,” he said awkwardly. All I could do was stare at him and give him a slight smile. “I know I have no right to come here and say this, but I made a huge mistake breaking up with you. I’m so sorry.”
I just stood there trying to figure out what to say. I looked up into his beautiful blue eyes and something was missing. I wasn’t getting that warm, giddy feeling when I saw him. And that was the moment I realized that through all the pain and tears I had suffered through the past four months, I had moved on. I changed. I grew up. I matured. Whatever you want to call it, I had gotten over him. All I said was, “Thanks for stopping by, but I think it’s best if you just move on,” and then I closed the door on him. In a way, I closed the door on him in my heart as well. I rushed back to my bedroom and hung up my phone and then tucked the picture of the two of us away in my heart forever.