Disclosure

By: RDV




She had splattered her width across the bed. The pillows were soaked by her fountain of tears, the room filled with the roars of her cries which she found impossible to quell. If seen outside the real context, one might guess that she was among the bereaved involving a middle-east bombing tragedy. But no, she was just a bereaved in the name of love, jealousy and insecurity. Just this morning, she saw a picture of her freshly pronounced ex-boyfriend with his arm around his brand new baby. Not a car, but a cute girl his age. Having witnessed the horror, she tumbled back to her room in the same languor she had when she woke up untimely due to the boisterous patter of rain on her bedroom’s roof.


Wasn’t it bad to be labeled that way? A jealous ex-girlfriend? She never thought she’d ever be this way when, just weeks ago, she declared that she was tired of him, that he’d be from then on the last thing on her mind and the renewal of their relationship the last thing she’d consider so would he just back off? She added that she would never keep even their happiest moments together in mind, not in either heaven or earth. She didn’t give herself enough latitude to stop and brood over things, didn’t entertain this possibility. Now the words she unleashed upon him, which she believed almost pushed him to tears, tangled inside her head like sticky coils. She shouldn’t have said that. If she knew it would pain her thus, she wouldn’t let go of him at all.


She gave her gay pal a call, Paul, who was a connoisseur of personality and humour. His frankness wasn’t exactly what she needed now but if she wanted entertainment, he’d be just right for the employment. That should be an established cause. But as she picked up the phone to dial his digits, she knew that a heart to heart was what she wanted. She knew that it would take more than a lie and coated laughter to convince her that she was going to be fine.


There were three rings and a curt “hold on a sec,” from her friend’s mother before he was stalled in the line.


“What?” he had said then. Hearing his voice, its very bluntness, made her unsure of how much help was available.


“…” She didn’t say anything but sobbed.


“What is it, honey?”


“Jeff’s got a new girl.”


“Oh I know that already. It’s been ages!”


“What? Why didn’t you tell me? He was hugging her in that picture. Fuck!”


“Didn’t you say you don’t give a shit about whatever he is or does now? And please, don’t act like it’s an act of indiscretion to hug your GF in a photo shoot.”


“I know but...”


“Now it’s my turn to question; why are you crying?”


“It hurts. I don’t know why.” She hiccupped.


“Of course it does. What are you, a stone-head?”


“But Paul, I didn’t prepare myself for this. It’s—“


“People don’t prepare themselves for this kind of shit. They don’t enter a relationship to think up ways to end it and how to end it with minimal pain. Girl, you are one ignorant bag.”


“…” She tried to humour her pain by looking at it through Paul’s lens. But she couldn’t, that’s it. In her attempt to express appreciation, she laughed, weakly, which made her sound like laughing at her own private joke.


“Therese, get out of yourself. He’s not worth getting a breakdown. He hasn’t enough education to pass him for a petty thief. He’s all face and dick.”


“Yeah, thanks for reminding me.”


“There’s no reason for that new girl to be proud of him if you haven’t noticed it yet.” Paul had this way of stating what was already puttering out of the surface. Somehow, it hardly consoled Therese. Now she was beginning to think that what she asked for and what this friend of hers could give her did not exist.


“Paul I feel so small, you know.”


“That’s expected. You’re one damn insecure biatch and as far as I’m concerned it’s not something out of normalcy.”


“Okay, I know. I’ve read that in books a hundred times but why does it have to be so heavy, like this?”


“What? Your suffering? Nothing’s easy to suffer. Live with it. Time mends everything. Gosh, Therese, he’s useless. I can make a list of his vices and it may take me forever to finish it. Tell me, which among his pleasures makes you want him back like this?”


“Paul, please…”


“He’s useless.”


“You’ve just said that a while ago.”


“Would I repeat it if you’ve been listening?”


“Am I not?”


“You’re ornery. You don’t take it to heart, I know.”


“It refuses to.” She said. It did. Her heart would refuse one moral, then the next, then the one after that until something snapped out altogether, like her life.


“Then force it.”


“How?”


“Go out with some other guy.” He said. It was, however, a possibility out of her mark; she never was a socialite. He was her first and she was afraid, her last.


“Argghh.”


“Then die.”


Therese knew that those words served as a cue for the end of their prattle. Paul wasn’t licensed to feel empathy for her, no one was. This kind of pain was something one bears alone, in grief, in profoundest sadness.


“Paul, I have to go.” She said.


“Okay, fine. Just get a grip, okay? You may find it by looking at what’s happening outside. There’s a war in Iraq, you know. The death toll there may be more worth your tears than your ex is. Bye.”


He hung up. She was exhausted. In silence, she resumed her waterworks. She’d never get over him, her first love. She loved him still and she would spend her whole life trying to prove herself wrong on that subject.