Sorry isn’t the hardest word: Goodbye is
I, rather begrudgingly, decided to do the right thing recently. For all my flaws, morality is seldom one of them, but even I had to put my foot down and accept that having a flirtationship with a bloke with a girlfriend wasn’t a line I wanted to cross.
Hold onto your hats, scandalised ladies of the choir, nothing sordid happened. Not even a kiss on the cheek. Go back to your knitting.
No, this was a flirtationship with an old uni friend that was on that awkward edge of being romantic or sexy, but not incriminatingly so. As in, if any lawyer shared our material as evidence of saucy behaviour, the worst we could have been found guilty of was a few lad jokes. But we both knew, deep down, that if we carried on staying in touch, it wouldn’t end well. Point of no return and all that. I digress.
He (and I, seconds later) agreed to stop contacting eachother. Don’t get me wrong, it sucked, but I think quietly we both knew it was for the best. Neither of us like cheating as a concept, and, while there was never the suggestion that we would, we quietly agreed to go our separate ways. He was going to be busy getting ready for university. I quickly pretended that I was very preoccupied too. All civil, all polite, no outbursts. Reader, I deleted his number.
Once the moral dose of not being a boyfriend-stealing-succubus had worn off, I was left with a large hole in the wall of messages on my phone and a lot of in-jokes I couldn’t share with anyone. Even my usual coven seemed a bit aware that I was texting them a bit too much to be normal. The gap of him was what I disliked, not the fact I wasn’t with him. But, even though it hurts a bit and I do now have the unenviable task of trying to find a new friend as a workaholic introvert who doesn’t drink, I stand by my decision.
Losing a member of your inner circle hurts. Anyone who says otherwise or claims to move on like a river dropping a rock is a total liar. There are gaps. There are sad aching moments of wishing you could call or grab dinner with someone. There are dead days that would have once been filled with arguments over council tax in Regents Park. There will be times when you speak to Reserve Chloe because she, at least, is still there (Oh come on, we all have that friend).
Goodbye is horrible. But there will be new heartbreaks, new losses, new friends and new crushes. Don't let fear of being lonely cost you your moral or emotional needs.
Besides, you'll probably have more phone memory for cat memes now.