Freedom.
I don’t remember what happened exactly, it was over a year ago. But I do know this:
I kicked him out. I forget how. I will never forget why. As a result, moved to a friend’s house, the week leading up to valentines day. I asked for space, but of course I didn’t get it.
messages
calls
texts
at all times and hours
The most I got was I think a day. It was agreed I would have two weeks without him. I planned to consolidate my thoughts and feelings, to ensure I was really ready and to then make a firm decision. But of course, I didn’t get that either.
About a week in, I get yet another call as I left the HR building. I give in. He comes back. I try to think positively and pathetically create an additional side blog called CandKattempt2. This time, it was meant to be a blog about love to support a new start together. But I never even get to post anything here.
This reunion doesn’t last long. I forget how many days, but not even a week.
Late one night, I can’t sleep and his flashing phone is making it worse. I crawl to the edge of the bed to turn the screen face down, but catch a glimpse of an email notification from match.com. I ignore it, assuming it is probably innocent spam.
But despite the upturned screen, flashes of light still seep into the room as his phone continues to receive notifications of some form. As time ticks on even later, I give in to paranoia, and snatch his phone from the charger as I sneak into the living room.
I have never been the jealous type and am disgusted by myself as I open his emails. I am certain that I will regret this lapse of judgement and it will just be spam. But it is not. Then as I scroll through the messages from other, seedier sites, I feel regret only for letting him back in.
And in that moment, I am free.
I do not bother to even kick him out straight away again, I tell him he can stay until he finds a new place. Which he does, and then very soon he is truly gone.