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Out of Grasp
III
When I woke up the next morning and checked my phone, I was surprised to see two missed calls and three unread text messages from James. I was hesitant about calling him back but I knew it was something that would have to be done eventually.
But that didn't mean I couldn't procrastinate.
I took a long shower, washing my hair twice to waste time and got dressed. After organizing my CD collection twice, once from Z to A and then again from A to Z, and vacuuming the entire apartment, I realized that I had no choice but to suck it up and call James.
I wandered into the kitchen and took a seat at the counter, holding my cell phone tightly in my hands. I finally gathered up the nerve and dialed his number that I had memorized so long ago and brought the phone up to my ears. It rang three times before he picked up.
"Hey." He sounded tired.
"Hi. You called?"
"Yeah, I did. I want to talk about this fight and why it even got started." He said, getting right to the point.
"You know why. It's the reason we've been fighting so much lately."
"Emily, I need you to understand how important my job is. It's not like I work as a cashier at some gas station or something; I'm a corporate manager. Everything that happens with this company goes through me."
"So between your job, your friends and your family, where do I fit in? Because frankly I'm sick of being pushed aside every time something 'important' pops up."
"You are important, you know that," he sighed.
"No, James, I really don't know that. How could I when you're never here to show me you care?"
Our relationship had gotten older and with time, colder. What I wanted and what he wanted were two different things. James just wanted to work because he wanted the money. I just wanted to have time with him; we were a couple. We were supposed to spend time together. And instead of using the small amount time we do have together to enjoy each others presence, we have fights; ridiculous, tiring fights. Without sounding clingy, James was just never there for me. My wants and needs weren't important and didn't matter. It was simply annoying at first, but after two years of having my dreams pushed aside, it started to feel like I didn't matter.
We grew apart; time and everyday life in general pushed us apart, to a point where I feel this relationship is salvageable.
"....where does this leave us?" He quietly asked.
"Honestly, I don't know."
"Well, why don't we just forget we ever had this fight and move on. We can-"
"We can't keep forgetting! Every time we argue, we 'move on'. The problem is still there and you may be able to forget, but I can't."
"...so are...are we breaking up?" For the first time in a long time, I could actually hear the regret in James' voice. If only he showed he cared months ago...
"I don't want to, but I feel like we already have."
"I come back in a month. We can talk then and see where we are, okay?"
"Sure."
"I love you, Em."
Somehow, I doubted that. I could no longer repeat those same words to him; I'm not sure I ever would be able to again. I gave my heart to James and he took advantage of it. From now on, I will be the only one to have my heart.
"I'll see you when you get back." I said curtly and then hung up the phone.
I wasn't even sure if I was sad anymore. I've felt so unhappy for so long that to finally be free is almost like a relief; a weight off my shoulders. I don't even know how I feel about James anymore. I know I really like him but I'm not sure if I can love him at this point. We've shared so many harsh words that I've basically forgotten about the good times. There's been so much tension and drama between us that all I feel is stress and distaste. Breaking up was a long time coming.
I spent the next few days packing up my stuff from the apartment. James had been living here before we started dating so it was only right that I moved out now that we had broken up.
It didn't take me long to have all my things in boxes. All the furniture except the two bean bag chairs and the small love-seat belonged to James. While I was packing, Tori was searching for an apartment for me. She knew what I liked and I didn't doubt that she'd find a decent place for me to stay. She was glad that James and I had finally decided to break up, though she tried to be sympathetic for me. She hated seeing me so upset all the time; Eric was no different. When he wasn't here to witness or hear about the fights, Tori filled him in, which I didn't mind because he was one of my best friends as well.
When Tori had finally found a place she thought I would like and knew I could afford, we went to go look at it. When we pulled up in front it, I was expecting something a little different.
"Um...Tor, this is a house."
"Its not a house. It's a townhouse."
"Whats the difference?" I asked.
"The difference is that this you rent, not buy. Look, it's really nice. This is in Apache Junction, a really nice neighborhood. It has four bedrooms and two and half bathrooms. There's a pool and you have a walk in closet!" She said, trying to sell me on it like a real estate agent.
"Four bedrooms? I'm one person!"
"You'll have lots of room for guests!" she chirped. I admit, it looked like a nice place but I was still apprehensive and Tori could tell. "At least give it look before you say no."
"Alright. I'll give it a shot!"
We climbed out of the car and headed up the front door. Tori had called the home owner and made an appointment for us to look inside the house earlier in the day. We knocked on the door and a woman, probably in her 40s, answered the door. After taking a twenty minute tour, I was sold. It was beautiful inside and out and it just had this nice homey feel.
Tori was proud of herself and after I signed the lease, she finally admitted that the main reason she loved it so much was because it was only 20 minutes from Tempe, where she lived. My apartment with James had been a good 35 minute drive before.
And with a swift curve of a pen, I was no longer living with James. My life was finally moving in a different direction. Whether I was ready for it was a question I have yet to find an answer to.
But that didn't mean I couldn't procrastinate.
I took a long shower, washing my hair twice to waste time and got dressed. After organizing my CD collection twice, once from Z to A and then again from A to Z, and vacuuming the entire apartment, I realized that I had no choice but to suck it up and call James.
I wandered into the kitchen and took a seat at the counter, holding my cell phone tightly in my hands. I finally gathered up the nerve and dialed his number that I had memorized so long ago and brought the phone up to my ears. It rang three times before he picked up.
"Hey." He sounded tired.
"Hi. You called?"
"Yeah, I did. I want to talk about this fight and why it even got started." He said, getting right to the point.
"You know why. It's the reason we've been fighting so much lately."
"Emily, I need you to understand how important my job is. It's not like I work as a cashier at some gas station or something; I'm a corporate manager. Everything that happens with this company goes through me."
"So between your job, your friends and your family, where do I fit in? Because frankly I'm sick of being pushed aside every time something 'important' pops up."
"You are important, you know that," he sighed.
"No, James, I really don't know that. How could I when you're never here to show me you care?"
Our relationship had gotten older and with time, colder. What I wanted and what he wanted were two different things. James just wanted to work because he wanted the money. I just wanted to have time with him; we were a couple. We were supposed to spend time together. And instead of using the small amount time we do have together to enjoy each others presence, we have fights; ridiculous, tiring fights. Without sounding clingy, James was just never there for me. My wants and needs weren't important and didn't matter. It was simply annoying at first, but after two years of having my dreams pushed aside, it started to feel like I didn't matter.
We grew apart; time and everyday life in general pushed us apart, to a point where I feel this relationship is salvageable.
"....where does this leave us?" He quietly asked.
"Honestly, I don't know."
"Well, why don't we just forget we ever had this fight and move on. We can-"
"We can't keep forgetting! Every time we argue, we 'move on'. The problem is still there and you may be able to forget, but I can't."
"...so are...are we breaking up?" For the first time in a long time, I could actually hear the regret in James' voice. If only he showed he cared months ago...
"I don't want to, but I feel like we already have."
"I come back in a month. We can talk then and see where we are, okay?"
"Sure."
"I love you, Em."
Somehow, I doubted that. I could no longer repeat those same words to him; I'm not sure I ever would be able to again. I gave my heart to James and he took advantage of it. From now on, I will be the only one to have my heart.
"I'll see you when you get back." I said curtly and then hung up the phone.
I wasn't even sure if I was sad anymore. I've felt so unhappy for so long that to finally be free is almost like a relief; a weight off my shoulders. I don't even know how I feel about James anymore. I know I really like him but I'm not sure if I can love him at this point. We've shared so many harsh words that I've basically forgotten about the good times. There's been so much tension and drama between us that all I feel is stress and distaste. Breaking up was a long time coming.
I spent the next few days packing up my stuff from the apartment. James had been living here before we started dating so it was only right that I moved out now that we had broken up.
It didn't take me long to have all my things in boxes. All the furniture except the two bean bag chairs and the small love-seat belonged to James. While I was packing, Tori was searching for an apartment for me. She knew what I liked and I didn't doubt that she'd find a decent place for me to stay. She was glad that James and I had finally decided to break up, though she tried to be sympathetic for me. She hated seeing me so upset all the time; Eric was no different. When he wasn't here to witness or hear about the fights, Tori filled him in, which I didn't mind because he was one of my best friends as well.
When Tori had finally found a place she thought I would like and knew I could afford, we went to go look at it. When we pulled up in front it, I was expecting something a little different.
"Um...Tor, this is a house."
"Its not a house. It's a townhouse."
"Whats the difference?" I asked.
"The difference is that this you rent, not buy. Look, it's really nice. This is in Apache Junction, a really nice neighborhood. It has four bedrooms and two and half bathrooms. There's a pool and you have a walk in closet!" She said, trying to sell me on it like a real estate agent.
"Four bedrooms? I'm one person!"
"You'll have lots of room for guests!" she chirped. I admit, it looked like a nice place but I was still apprehensive and Tori could tell. "At least give it look before you say no."
"Alright. I'll give it a shot!"
We climbed out of the car and headed up the front door. Tori had called the home owner and made an appointment for us to look inside the house earlier in the day. We knocked on the door and a woman, probably in her 40s, answered the door. After taking a twenty minute tour, I was sold. It was beautiful inside and out and it just had this nice homey feel.
Tori was proud of herself and after I signed the lease, she finally admitted that the main reason she loved it so much was because it was only 20 minutes from Tempe, where she lived. My apartment with James had been a good 35 minute drive before.
And with a swift curve of a pen, I was no longer living with James. My life was finally moving in a different direction. Whether I was ready for it was a question I have yet to find an answer to.