Never Got Over You -Whitney G. Page 0,58
call you tomorrow.”
“Love you, too.” I ended the call, and felt my heart at ease.
This is only temporary. It’s all going to work out ...
...
Kate
~September 26, 2009 ~
THE FUNNY THING ABOUT the word “temporary,” is that the definition could vary between two hours, two months, two years. It meant something different to every person who said it, and I had yet to fully understand James’s definition.
I was accustomed to our routine, but it was falling apart with each passing day. I stayed up until three o’clock every morning, just to hear his voice, but some nights he didn’t call. And sometimes when I called, he didn’t answer.
His postcards continued to come like clockwork, but instead of at the quick ‘I’m constantly thinking of you” rate, it was at the “You happened to cross my mind this week” rate. From seven days a week to five days a week, to two days a week, to once every two weeks.
Our exciting calls became drab catch up sessions, rundowns of a week’s worth of information. Sometimes there were too many words to say and he’d say, “I love you. Let’s catch up tomorrow,” but tomorrow was never the next day in this unstable world of long distance. It was always several days later. What originally started as some form of communication with him once a day, was now once a week.
“I’m just saying that if you know that you’re not going to call until six in the morning, you could give me a heads up.” I snapped one night via Skype, staring directly into his eyes. “Like, I wait until three o’clock for you all the time, and if I’m waiting for nothing, I’d appreciate it if you let me know.”
“I’m working two jobs outside of school, Kate.” He sighed. “It’s not like I’m trying to piss you off on purpose.”
“You’re not pissing me off, you’re just making this more difficult than it needs to be.”
“You don’t see me getting upset about you never writing back or taking hours to respond to a text message.”
“Because you know I’m not allowed to bring my phone into any of my professor’s classes.” I rolled my eyes. “I believe it was you who said, text me whenever you get a chance. And I do.”
“Kate ...”
“You used to say that I could come visit you, but now when I ask you about it, it’s never a good time. Is this weekend a good time? Next month, perhaps?”
“You know it isn’t ...”
“And your reasoning is still because I’m too big of a distraction?”
“I don’t think we would be talking about my exams when you got here.”
“It’s better than talking about the nothing that we spend our hours talking about now ...”
Silence.
He let out a long sigh. “Kate, I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t say anything.” I was still upset, my face still red as hell on the screen.
“I don’t want you to waste any more of this year,” he said, giving me a faint smile. “You should be living your best life.”
“I am, James.”
“If you were, you wouldn’t be spending every weekend arguing with me about things neither of us can control.”
“I’m not arguing with you,” I said. “I’m just pointing out the obvious.”
“Me, too,” he said. “I don’t want to make you this unhappy ... I think we need some time apart.”
“What are you saying, James?” I looked into his eyes. “You want to end things?”
“Yes,” he said, pausing. “Not forever, though. Just for now.”
“A break?” My voice cracked. “You want us to take a break from each other?”
“I think that’s what’s best for now, Kate.” He looked as hurt as I felt. “I still want you to wait for me―for us, but not like this. I don’t want you to be miserable.”
“James, I’m fine with things how they are.”
“You’re not,” he said, looking right through me. “You’re miserable as hell, and I can’t stand seeing you like this.”
“It’s not your fault.”
He sighed and shook his head. “This doesn’t change anything.”
“It changes everything...” I felt tears falling down my face. “What type of ‘break’ are you suggesting here? One where we talk even less than we already do?”
“One where we don’t talk at all.”
Silence.
Heartbreaking, tear-falling, silence.
“It’ll hurt too much to talk to you,” he said finally. “Even worse than it does right now.”
“So, you’re saying that we’re over.” I couldn’t handle this conversation. “But you still want me to wait until you’re ready for us not to be over?”
“Kate, you’re twisting my words and you know it.” “I still want