She stood in the doorway to my room, braids falling over her shoulders, skin the colour of cafe au lait, dressed in college casual and an expression of distress on her face.
“Why doesn't he answer my calls?” was followed by a clear argument for the obvious. He just was not into her anymore.
He was her boyfriend from back home and she was my quad-mate (not my roommate, but the person who lived in the next room who I shared the bathroom and kitchen with). It was the weekend and he was to come up but there was an obvious change in plans.
I remember feeling frustrated by her constant whining about not getting in contact with him. In my best neutral tone of voice, I told her perhaps the relationship was over. I could tell she was not hearing the words coming out of my face, so I told her to try calling him again.
From tat moment, I disliked the notion of being so caught up with another person that I never let anyone get too close. I didn't want to be the teary-eyed shadow of myself, trying to hold on to something that had come to past. I had also seen something similar with a friend in Italy.
Perhaps, it's a woman thing where we need to understand. Yet part of me can see the male side of it where they know they don't want to be in a relations just because they are not into that person or that relationship.
She eventually came to terms with her single status and I'm sure he's just a fuzzy memory. It's sad though that their relationship's demise is such a vivid memory for me. That i is the first pillar upon which I rest my resistance to giving my heart freely. From that point, subconsciously, I built an argument against falling in love.
The lesson is that this is another person's love story. I should never use it to avoid experiencing my own hardship and pain. It's those hardships that carve one's character, making them unique and interesting. Some scars are sexy and tell interesting stories, even the scars of a broken heart. The great thing about a broken heart, it can always be put back together and most times, it's stronger that it was before.
I'm happy to say this memory is fading away and in a few years it will be gone, replaced with memories of loving and being loved.
