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He needs to show up, too. He needs to see where I am coming from, and that shutting down on me isn’t the answer.
Now, on reflection, I get his point. I see what he is upset about. But he’s wrong thinking that this is all in my head. I was there. I saw it with my own eyes how upset he was when Robert came to him, and I know he doesn’t understand any of this now, but hopefully, in time, he will.
Our love was too fast, too passionate, and too blinding with its beauty.
I smile sadly. Boy, was it beautiful. Nathan and I together, when things were going good, was a fairy tale.
It doesn’t get any better than what we had, and if he can throw it away so easily without even showing up for the fight then I guess I did us all a favor by leaving.
“Last call for flight 756 to New York,” sounds over the intercom once more and I exhale heavily.
It doesn’t make it hurt less.
I want the happy ending. I want the fairy tale where he runs through the airport to stop me from leaving. I glance up in the hope of seeing him. I long to see him frantically running to stop me from ruining everything.
But he’s not here.
He hasn’t been here since Robert came. Maybe even before that.
He checked out on me when I needed him to stand up and tell me what I had done wrong.
And he said that I had a prejudice. But maybe the complex is his, not mine.
I’m not saying I’m in the right, but any woman who found out that their partner had spoken to his ex every day for ten years, and that he had always begged them to come back to him, would be rattled. Add to that, the ex came back professing his love, and the boyfriend has hardly spoken two words to you since. It’s not rocket science.
I am doing the right thing.
We need space. We need time.
I need him.
My eyes fill with tears.
“Last call for flight 756 to New York,” repeats over the intercom.
I stand, and with one last longing look over San Francisco airport, I drag myself on the plane. It feels like my world is ending, and maybe it is.
Maybe this is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever done.
He didn’t come.
* * *
The text comes through from Jolie, and I scroll through the selections she’s sent to me:
Furnished apartments.
One bedroom, furnished, great location.
Week to week, no lease.
And btw, Santiago is a prick.
Had a gangbang last night with four girls.
He’s gone.
I smirk, thank God, that’s over. I mark it down to go and look at it. I don’t want to be locked into anything long term.
