The Elephant Between Us
I donât care, or at least that's what I told myself as I frantically packed my clothes into bags. That's what I told Taisha when she told me the most unexpected news. The words poured out of her like alcohol on an open wound; the more excuses I heard spilling out her mouth the more it burned.
She was almost screaming, âIâm sorry! It was a mistake, I never wanted to hurt you!â But I knew better. I saw the way her eyes lingered on her when she thought I wasnât looking, the way they huddled to the side sharing soft secrets and hidden laughter. I saw it all and chose to look the other way. Now, here we are, with the elephant in-between us and nowhere left to look.
I have always been consistent. Some may call it boring, but I call it consistent, reliable, dependable. Taisha is different; sheâs a whirlwind mixing up my life in a colourful way that I had never experienced. She is the definition of unpredictable. She brought an excitement to my life and broke up the monotony. Sure, her eyes were viridescent, I couldnât back down from a fight, and together we were what some would call toxic, but we were passionate, with a love so deep and vast it was overwhelming. Besides I provided a stable love enough for the both of us.
When we first started dating, I was worried she would get bored of me. She would invite me to the bars with her friends and I would always feel so out of place. âDo you mean it when you say you love me?â always seemed to be at the tip of my tongue on the drive home. I should've known someone so colourful and bright would be bored by the bleached monotony that is me.
So, I lied, and I told her âI donât care.â The words slipped out before I could decide who they were for, trying desperately to convince someone. âWe weren't happy anyways; you just made the decision easy for us.â
She snaps at me breaking of my spiraling thoughts, âItâs your fault this is happening in the first placeâ, making her way across the room, getting in my face. âYouâre too nonchalant and cold. I want to be with someone who takes me more seriouslyâ, spitting the words out like ungodly green acid. Starting to break down in tears, she asks, âWhy donât you talk to me or share what youâre thinking anymore?â
I pause from packing my clothes and turn to her, taking a second to absorb the words, the ashen fog in my head making it hard to think. How could she even say that? Was me being here every day, through thick and thin not enough? With nothing left to say I turn back to packing my things. "I hope that made you feel better."
This isnât a lie; there was no need to convince myself of that. I really do hope she feels better. It must've been hard holding all of that in, letting it fester and rot under the surface. Guilt and shame oozing from the inside out. Taisha has never been good at keeping secrets.
I take a deep breath in and push my sympathy to the side; this is not my problem anymore. The moment she made her bed, she stopped being my problem and I stopped owing her answers. From now on Iâll worry about me.
After clearing my clothes from our closet and toiletries from the bathroom; trying to ignore the offputtingly mustard yellow elephant that barely left us with space to breathe. After a minute, Taisha sulks in behind me, attempting to apologize, âLook baby, Iâm sorry! She didnât mean anything.â I watch her through the mirror as she puts her arms around my waist to hold me. âYou know I would never try to hurt you.â
I close my eyes for a second, savouring her touch, contemplating her offering. But I know what she said is a lie. If Taisha says something she means it. Iâve always loved this about her.
I shrug her off me and create some space to move to the bookshelf to pack my books, meticulously working my way through them from starting the top and working my way down. I stop when I get to âAll About Loveâ. She had gotten me this for our first Valentines letting me know that Bell Hooks had changed her life, letting me know she this was a commitment to our vibrant, blooming romance. I leave it behind in case she needs a reminder on what that looks like.
Noticing this her once tearful and desperate expression turns to one of annoyance and asks disappointingly, âThatâs it then? Youâre just going to give up on everything weâve worked for?â After waiting a moment and not receiving an answer, she delivers one last final âFuck youâ, before storming out of the apartment that was once ours: the door crashing behind her.
I sit in the silence for a moment; absorbing everything that was said and done. Our once mustard roommate looking more flaxen, feeling less formidable. I continue packing the rest of my belongings into boxes but stop as a sob escape from pearly gates. I do care, more than anything. I was committed to Taisha since the very beginning. We were supposed to make the family we never had Now Iâm sitting here with my life in bags and boxes with no idea of where to go next; Iâve lost a piece of me I will never get back. The raging rivers slowly turns to a babbling brook as I take time to mourn.
Hearing the front door open, I quickly wipe the tears from my eyes, take a deep breath and finish packing up the last of my things. Taisha walks in the room, and watches me for a minute, leaning in the doorway, before asking âIs this it then?â
I shoot her a hostile glare; what is that supposed to mean? âYepâ, and with that I begin to start taking trips to load my car. I donât ask Taisha for help, and she doesnât offer; just observes me from the couch as I repeat the ritual of loading my life into my truck.
With the last of my things in hand I look at the half empty bookshelf, missing photos on the wall, the bare kitchen counters. Little holes waiting for someone to fill them. A place that I used to call home no longer feels like mine; even though earlier today I couldnât imagine being anywhere else. Despite the void in front of me, I feel a glimmer of hope. I was able to pack myself up and, hopefully, that means I will be able to create a space that is mine once again.
I turn to Taisha and take one last long look at her: beautiful umber skin glistening, sharp cold eyes, a scowl painting her face. âIâm sorry it ended this wayâ, I donât even know why Iâm saying sorry when she was the one who cheated but I say it anyway. She stares at me, and I back at her; the elephant feeling smaller and washed out, but still lingering just outside of view.
âIs there anything I can do to make you stay?â, she asks softly.
âWhy do you even want me to stay?â If I knew I would tell her but after waiting a moment with no reply, I take it as a sign that this is for the best. I shake my head sadly and pause before saying, âThank you for showing me a love so colourful it changed my life.â With tears well up in her eyes and gets up rushing over and wrapping her arms around me.
I stand there a bit shocked, a pleasant shiver creeping up my spine; I always forget how cold I am till I feel the warmth of her embrace. Wrapping my arms around her, I bask in her comfort, forgetting for just a moment that we have company. She steps back and the cold settles back in; Iâm alone for the first time in a long time.
With one final look, I shut the door behind me, leaving my broken hopes and dreams with our unpleasant yellow friend on the other side, and moving on to the great unknown.



















