Left On Read
The silence feels loud. No messages. No calls. No showing up to apologize, and even if he did- would it matter?
Future plans became nothing. Promises became nothing but empty words and an empty space where warmth once was. An empty space where someone once was. It makes me wonder what it all even was. Was it love? Was it a lie? It felt real to some extent, but it all felt so cold.
The grins. The manipulation. The games. The lies. Yet, it had somehow felt so real and so warm in moments that it has me confused. Did he care? Did he try his best and just not know how to be with me? Was there something I could have done more to understand him?
The more I question, the more I want answers that I'll never truly receive. Even if I tried, would I let myself fall back into his arms again or would I just leave again? If I left for a reason, then why-
I feel the persistent vibration of my phone and pick it up from the table. Unknown number. I set it back down and let it keep ringing. Telemarketers, or even scammers, looking for working numbers to harass. No thanks. The more I let it ring, the more it seems to feel louder. As if I need to answer to find out what this person wants from me. Yet, I don't. I let it ring.
The more I don't answer, the more the void seems to scream at me,"What if it's him?"
The thought makes me stop because he would call from an unknown number. Not a random number. A number hidden with a purpose. That way, he can call on his terms but leave me on read.
The more I sit within the silence, the more it becomes clear. Regardless of who it is, I am not answering. Even if it is him, wouldn't it be about control? If he really wanted to apologize or show he was sorry, why use a hidden number? Why not just text me and ask to talk? What would the point be of being so secretive?
The more I ask, it all clicks. The lies. The lack of intimacy. The lack of love. The cold and hot behavior. I had a feeling he had been cheating, but it was never confirmed. And, what if it was him? Would I even want to listen to what he has to say?
My phone becomes nothing but a part of the background at this point, especially with the constant buzzing. I don't want to look, but I do. I just don't want to accidentally answer the call.
When I do finally look at my phone, it's not what I want to see. I'd have loved to see only one call. No repeat call backs. No messages. Nothing, but that's not what I received.
23 missed calls within the last few minutes, and two texts that are still growing. Still typing. Still sending. As I read them, it hits me. He doesn't want me. He doesn't care about my feelings. He isn't sorry, and may never be. It stings, but the truth usually does. I block his number and delete the logs. No need for acknowledgement. No need to talk. It just is what it is, even if part of me once wished he'd have just been good for me. Even just once. That isn't what happened, though. And, now he's the one left on read because I know he has his read receipts on. And, honestly, I don't know if I care anymore.
