After exchanging our love for each other, Stuart was still talking enthusiastically but now more to himself than to me. “I can’t believe I saw that girl over the summer. It didn’t make me happy. I am so much happier now.” “…Eh, what?” He turned to me and repeated the same piece of information. He said it like he was a hero of the story, who overcame a challenge. I looked at him and saw his eyes were sparkling with admiration for me, and his dimples were deep with a smile. I didn’t want to ruin the beautiful moment, so I decided not to interrogate him.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about it all that week. When we met in London in August, he refused my advances because he was still recovering from the last breakup. But all the while, he was sleeping with another woman?! Maybe he took our relationship seriously, which was why he couldn’t sleep with me. But then, why did he even need someone else? And what did it say about him if he USED a woman to ease his insecurity? And how the hell did he tell me about it like it was nothing, or worse, like it was the most romantic story?!
I asked Stuart via text about it again, and he confirmed. I felt with my body anger for his action, disappointment in my perception of him, and disdain for his insensitivity. I wrote, “I am pissed!” missing “off” due to my trembling fingers. He replied, “are you angry or are you drunk?” With that, I poured my rage onto the Sony-Ericsson phone screen. Stuart was now truly regretful of his action and apologized for hurting my feelings. But I was still boiling with anger and hurt, so I sent a spiteful word to terminate the conversation. A second later, the phone rang. We had never called our phones because it was expensive and also we still felt a little shy to talk on the phone. He sounded sincere as he apologized again, but I said I couldn’t pretend it’d be all ok again, and we hung up with no amend.
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