11:53 a.m. - Sept. 02, 2003
The end
So I had a splitting headache yesterday...
I went home and soaked in a warm bubble bath. Ahhhhh.......
When I was just about finished, and as I was drying off, my phone rang. i could see that it was Eltin, so I turned off the ringer and continued with what I was doing. He actually left a message this time, pussy.
"Look ~ I don't know why you're ignoring me, but...ok, I'm outside your house. I left your stuff on the porch. I'm sure it's fine and won't get wet. Alright. Ok."
Click. End of meesage.
I poked things on my face which I shouldn't be poking. I stood there, frozen, unable to move. He was just feet away from me...just two doors and a few feet away from me. He was outside my front door. He was returning my stuff.
There I was, trapped in my bath, hesitant to leave my cocoon and venture out into the living room. I thought of the blinds on the front door and how they are raised up a bit, to let the cats look out...and gee, if I walk out into the living room and he's still out there on the porch, he'll see my feet and know I'm home...
Ok, so...........?
Speaking of pussies...I stayed in the bathroom for a bit of time. My phone rang again. It was him - again. I clicked off the ringer - again. He left another message.
"Michelle, I don't know why...you won't answer...why...I don't understand...give me some signal that you're okay..." Then he started to cry and hung up.
I stayed strong. Or I stayed weak. I dunno. I stayed in the bathroom. I looked myself deep in the eyes. I did not waiver.
I erased both messages. I dried off my hair. I walked out of the bath. I peeked out the front window. He was not there. I carried in all of my stuff, marvelling at the detail in which he went, to return every single little thing - even the things I had bought especially for him and for his home. A year and a half worth of shit was now at my feet...silent reminders of the lost fucking hopes and desires of a relationship that he wouldn't allow to work. Liar. Want your fucking cake and want to eat it too, eh? Well...you can go eat all the fucking cake you want to eat now.
No matter. Maybe this is what he needed to do, to make a clean break...to give me back every fucking thing...down to the bath stuff that we shared, when we wanted to pamper each other. No matter.
I thought about his message, "Let me know you're ok..." He had no right to ask me if I was alright. He has no right to know. I owe him nothing.
Yet still....
I sent him a text message that said, "Thanks for my stuff" and left it at that.
At 11PM, he replied, "M, Ok. Have a good sleep. E."
That was that.
I slept like death.
