Chapter 24: The Rollercoaster

I ended up flying to Florida pretty much right after landing in Boston, with just enough time to go home and shower and grab a couple more things in between, because Corona was starting to become more of a thing and my mom didn’t want me to be up in Boston by myself. I didn’t hear from Tony until about 7pm that night, after I was in Florida, well over 24 hours after he’d dumped me at a mall in a state I knew nothing about, when he made sure I’d made it home safely.

However, we did still talk here and there. It definitely wasn’t the same, but he wasn’t ignoring me. We talked about boating and fishing, golfing, I asked how work was going for him, that sort of thing. We still snapped on occasion, even the one time where apparently me making a comment about what color shirt I was wearing was “too sexual” for him and not something he was into. I didn’t really get that and apologized, he said it was okay and that we were fine and we kept up with occasional conversation. I knew he didn’t think it was “realistic,” but I figured he wouldn’t still be talking to me if he wasn’t serious about a fresh start and wanting to get drinks next time he was in Boston, and then maybe see what happens, so I remained hopeful and tried my best to give him the space he apparently needed to figure out what he actually felt for me. Meanwhile, I was trying to cope with the fact that I was still in love with someone who basically abandoned me and, not hate myself for wanting to forgive him.

In early April when I found out that I’d been let go from my job because of a huge reduction in force, I asked him if he could call me to talk and distract me for a bit. Besides, we hadn’t talked in a while and I wanted to see where we were at. He didn’t reply for awhile, and when he finally did, he pretty much told me in so many words, that frankly, he didn’t care. That he was sorry that I lost my job, but he was having issues with work because of all of this, too, but that he was too busy to worry about “dropping everything to call me for 10 minutes,” especially after “everything that happened.”

I was floored. It was just so insensitive, and so unlike anything I’d ever imagine someone who still claimed to be an Empath would ever say to another. Really, it was just unlike anything I’d imagine any decent person saying to someone else. I probably said something in reply, but I don’t remember. I just know I lied to my parents about not feeling well and went to my room to lie in bed and cry for a while before coming back downstairs.

After that, it was different when we talked, but every so often, we did say at least one or two things to each other. Until the end of April. At this point, I was extremely paranoid that me not being there and trying to be respectful and giving him some space was giving his friends, mainly Pete, to tell him more reasons why I don’t fit in with their little crowd and for him to come up with more stupid reasons to deny that there was at least some real reason he asked me to come out there. So, as I’m sure the creators of “The Social Dilemma” will be unsurprised to hear, my fear of being forgotten was mainly manifesting in my use of social media. 

Since I didn’t feel comfortable actually texting him and risking being ignored or told I was bothering him, I used social media (mostly Instagram) as my way of showing that I was living my life and having fun without him, but also that I was still thinking of him. One night, I had a weird feeling when I realized that it wasn’t working (not that I expected it to) and my fears were confirmed when I saw that he wasn’t following me anymore. It’s something so stupid, and so small, I know, but it still crushed me. 

But I refused to say anything about it at the time, so I just carried on. I gave him more space, but still was holding out hope that one day he’d wake up and realize how much he missed me and call me. That didn’t happen. What did happen, though, was a week or two later while I was at my brother’s house when I realized that he had ALSO defriended me on Snapchat. This time, though, I asked him what was wrong. I asked if I’d done anything offensive or if he was mad at me for something, to please let me know and I’d apologize. 

He replied that it wasn’t anything I’d said or done, that he’d been seeing someone and that it was serious and “it wasn’t right” for him to still be talking to me. And that’s why he’d been talking to me less and less and why he’d been deleting me on social media. Yes, I went into the bathroom and cried – it’s me, of course I did – but mostly, I was PISSED. Keep in mind that I’d been there only a month and a few days before, so clearly this was something that had either been going on before or while I was there, or immediately after for it to be “so serious.” And, that apparently it had been okay for him to talk to me up until just a couple of weeks before. So I said something about it. I said a lot about it, actually.

First, I asked him when he got with this girl and to please tell me that it wasn’t happening while I was there. All he said was that they “got together after I left,” which really didn’t make me feel better because it was a bit too vague for my liking. Apparently though, he’d completely changed his tune about love at first sight and love and relationships in the four weeks since I’d seen him, because she’s “the one” and “when you know you know,” which I pointed out to him was the exact thing he called me crazy for when I admitted to him that I had feelings for him after a short amount of time. Then I told him that he’d basically lied to me about not wanting a relationship, and he could’ve told me that he just meant “not with me,” that he could’ve been honest and upfront so I could’ve stopped wasting my time and energy on him weeks before. I said a few more things, and then I called him an asshole and blocked him on Snapchat.

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