‘Hey, the funniest thing happened. I took a lot of pictures at [her cousin]’s bachelorette party and you know how I said I deleted all the photos of you? Well, I did, but there were still pictures of us in [city] and they reappeared on my phone in the middle of the party. Surrounded by drunk people and your pictures appeared! Isn’t that crazy?’ she exuded in a friendly tone.
I joked that her phone was trying to remind her of better times, of times when she wasn’t surrounded by a bunch of drunk fools in a shit town but rather with me on a mountainside overlooking a beautiful city. It was a pretty good move, though it didn’t much matter – I could tell where the conversation was going by the tone in her voice.
Receiving a phone call after three months of silence would generally lead one to believe this was an attempt to reignite a spark, though you’d be wrong in thinking that. On the surface she was quite friendly and open, but her amicable tone carried with an undercurrent of hostility – she was on a fact finding mission. I’ve learned that girls are vengeful post-relationship, they have a need to check on their former significant other in a silent hope that their significant other isn’t as doing as well as they are.
Her hysterical laugh at my joke had me worried, as if there was a joke I wasn’t getting. ’So [ObLiVion_Falls], are you still in [City], are you still living at the same apartment?’
She went on to mention how she was buying a townhouse and moving towards my section of the city. It made me sad to hear of it as it left me with the sense that her, and the rest of the world, were moving on with their lives while I was still living in the
Then, as abruptly as it started, it ended. She politely stated she had to go because she was getting close to home and it would be difficult to talk and carry things in – a pleasant way of not stating the obvious. I thanked her and we both said goodbye. Then I hung up the phone and cried.