off your knee and put that ridiculous three-carat whatever away.” I pulled my hand again and managed to extricate it from his grip.
Kyle gave a nervous giggle and then turned to one of the phones that was right in our face. “She’s just . . . taken aback,” he said, and then smiled into the phone.
“Yes! I am taken aback,” I said. “That’s a good way to put it.” I folded my arms and took a step away from Kyle.
He smiled at me and turned to the camera again. “She just needs a moment. God only knows what she’s been through these last few weeks. I’m sure it’s been very traumatic. If any of you have been through a similar experience, let me know in the comments and tell me how you dealt with it.”
“WHAT are you GOING on about, KYLE?” I threw my arms in the air getting frustrated. “I am not traumatized. I wasn’t kidnapped. I have not been abducted by a strange cult. I am here by choice!”
Kyle shook his head tightly at me, as if he didn’t want anyone to see. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he said.
I laughed. “Kyle, I know exactly what I’m saying. Today, I know more about what I’m saying than I did weeks ago when I wanted to say something.” I stopped talking and thought about that sentence. That didn’t exactly make sense and I could see a few people around me scrunching up their faces as they too tried to work that out.
“What I mean is, I am perfectly sane right now. More than I’ve ever been before. And everything is so clear to me now too.”
He blinked a few times as if he was very confused. “What’s clear?”
“Get up, get up, get up.” I walked over to him again and pulled him to his feet. “And put that thing away.” I pointed at the ring box that he was holding in his hands. “I am not going to marry you, Kyle. And if you really take a moment to think about it, you don’t want to marry me either. Really marry me. You want to marry me because it makes good content and hundreds of thousands of people took a poll and told you to do it!” I spat the words out and Kyle looked at me as if I was mad. “Kyle . . . you and I, what we had, it’s not real, is it?” My voice got a little softer and gentler, but this only made the cameras come in closer. I tried to swat a few away with my hands as if they were flies.
“What we had was a business arrangement, not a relationship. It was for show. For everyone else. We never did anything just for us. There was no ‘us,’ Kyle. It was all about them.” I pointed at the cameras now.
Kyle looked confused. Poor guy. It was clear he had no idea what I meant. He clearly had no idea how a real relationship or friendship worked, and I did. I’d had the privilege of experiencing that these last few weeks.
“Kyle, you don’t love me. You love the likes.”
“I . . . I . . . do love you, Frankie,” he said, more to the camera than to me, which made me see that he was still playing for all the viewers. Was he even capable of being real? Having a real conversation? For a moment? Maybe I needed to take a different approach.
“You made me get a boob job!” I pointed at him and everyone around me gasped. “You didn’t love me for me. You cherry-picked the things you liked about me. You constantly told me what was wrong with me, or what I was doing wrong.”
“Self-improvement, babe. I was trying to motivate you towards your Personal Explosive Smash Through™.” He turned to the camera again. “If we are not having powerful daily Smash Through ExperiencesTM, we are not growing.”
“Oh my God!” I threw my hands in the air. “If I hear you say the word ‘explosive’ or ‘smash through’ or ‘breakthrough’ or ‘hashtag personal damn growth’ again, it will be too soon. Besides, it’s all crap, Kyle. All of it.”
Kyle looked at me sternly now. As if this was the thing that had finally made him think. He started shaking his head. Looking almost wounded.
“Frankie, if we are not constantly striving and pushing the boundaries of our own goals, we will stagnate and not ever step into our purposes,