Why My Ex-Boyfriend Wouldn't Stop Messaging Me? For F*ck Sake
"I'm sorry."
I put off getting a smart phone for as long as I could. I guess I didn't have a good reason besides the price. I couldn't afford the monthly plan when I first started out on my own. Everyone around me thought it was crazy that I was the only one who still used a cellphone. I was finally able to buy one for myself on my 25th birthday, when I finally felt financially stable enough to do so. I changed my mind, and my friends laughed about it. But I could tell they were happy. I have to say that I was pretty happy too. It turns out that cell phones are incredibly useful. Who knew?
Texts didn't start coming to my phone until about a month after I got it. It was my first message from a number I didn't know, and all it said was "I miss you."
At first, I didn't understand what kind of opening writing that was. To me, it seemed a bit over the top... that's when the link clicked for me.
About a year ago, I broke up with a boyfriend who did not pay his bills. Now that I think about it, I can say for sure that he was kind of like an older child. He didn't think it was important to get a job, so he expected me to cook, clean, make his doctor's appointments, and GIVE him half of my monthly pay. Damn those good looks—I shouldn't have stayed with him for so long. But when I woke up, I kicked him out, just like all of his other victims and lovers had done before. I thought he might have been looking at my Facebook or asking my friends for my new phone number. Because he had already tried to get in touch with me before, I thought this would be the last time.
I decided not to answer in the end. For starters, I knew that if I let him, he would try to trick me like always. Two, I would get small pleasure from making him feel forgotten and unheard. I try not to be petty most of the time, but sometimes a chance this good is just too tempting to pass up.
The next few months seemed to back up what I thought. Even though he didn't attack all the time, when he did, it was always a hazy plea that he needed a new host to feed off of and couldn't find one. It wasn't a surprise that he'd try to get in touch with me first, since I was the most faithful and long-lasting of all his lovers. I was also the most naive. I was the ideal target.
It got old very quickly because the words were always the same.
"I'm sorry."
"I want to see you..."
"Really? It was just a dream. I thought I saw you in a crowd today."
Oh, that's so sad.
It had been about eight months since I had my phone, but I messed up one night.
I had to say that I had been drinking. It began with one beer to help me relax after work, but it quickly turned into a party for just one person. When I got a text message that was much longer than normal, I was completely smashed.
"I really miss you. I know you don't read these, but I need you to know how much I love you right now. "I'd do anything to see you again..."
Why today of all days? I was curious. I tried to find my way through my brain's mush. I grabbed the first thought that came to mind. It must have been our anniversary today. Okay, why not? For some reason, it would be the right chance to trick them. He was rude, but smart.
Then I got an idea.
Does he want to play? Okay. Come on, play. I'm going to change the rules, though. I swear my thoughts were all over the place.
When I started to type, my drinking made it hard for autocorrect to figure out what I meant.
"Why don't you come see me if you want to?" Then, just to be safe, I told him I knew he was looking into me. "I'm easy to find."
When I sent it, my fate changed.
I missed thirteen calls when I woke up the next morning. Even though my head hurt, I tried to remember what stupid things I had done the night before. When my message records told me the answer, I moaned.
I thought, "Well, at least I hadn't answered the phone." I hoped in my head that he wouldn't text or call me again, but I was afraid that I had only made him more angry.
I felt a lot better when he stopped contacting me. Just for about a week, he didn't attack my phone at all. In secret, I was happy and praised my drunk self on how smart she was.
The following week, someone knocked on my door. When I opened it, all I saw was a guy with a badge. His serious face and blue outfit stood out in the bright morning light. Behind him, his partner stood with a stone-faced look on his face. As they looked at me, I felt a strange coldness move through my body.
"Um, good morning, police?" What's wrong?" I inquired.
Without introducing themselves, they walked right in. I let them in because I wasn't sure what they were looking for but was sure they wouldn't find it. It shocked me even more when they started asking questions. I thought they had made a mistake.
"Do you know anyone named Valery Anniston?"
I had no idea what was going on. "Why can't I say that I do?"
"We found several texts from her to you on her phone." We only got one answer from you." The younger cop pulled out a printout of the texts I had been getting and the one drunk text response I had made.
When the older cop asked, "Did you get these messages?" I began to understand how things really were.
I replied, "Yeah." I quickly added, "But they were calling from a number I didn't know." I believed they were from my ex-boyfriend.
"So that's why you gave that answer?"
I was tense and sweating. "Well, okay." I believed it would stop him. I couldn't hold back my words. "I was a little drunk, so maybe I shouldn't have done that..."
After letting out a sigh, the younger cop went outside. „There looks like there was a pretty bad crash.
"Just what do you mean?"
He opened his mouth and took a deep breath.
Valery had a rough first year of college.
It was hard in class. She didn't quite belong. Her life was full of stress and work. And just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, Tom Hardy, her best friend since childhood, died in a car accident. The death happened right away, but Valery's pain did not.
With the term going on, she pulled away from everyone. Tom's family
and friends were sad about her death, but they went on with their lives as they usually do. But Valery just couldn't leave her friend behind.
She really did try to deal with it. She looked for ways to get out. When she went to class, she tried to look happy. But she slowly fell into a darkness that she felt she couldn't get away from.And when it was really dark, cold, and unbearable, she'd text Tom's old number. It was a pointless act, but it would sometimes make her feel better.
The day after Tom's death, when she was feeling the worst, she finally heard back.
"Why don't you come see me if you want to? I'm easy to find.
She tried to call, but because I had never set it up, she didn't even get messages.
That's why she did the only thing that made sense. She grabbed the box cutter she had stolen from work and let the idea of infinite possibilities flow through her blood.
That night, I did something terrible that cost the life of someone who was terribly suffering just below the surface.
While her father forgave me, her mother would not forgive me no matter how many times I said I was sorry. That made sense to me. I was the last thing that made her want to kill her daughter. It was said over and over by the cops that Valery had killed herself. I wasn't to blame. On the other hand, guilt seeds grew like weeds in my heart and I couldn't pull them out.
The year was very long and hard.
Even though Valery's death hung over me like a cloud, I was able to get back on my feet and live my life. Everything I did made me remember her, even though the event seemed so long ago.. Like I hadn't heard that name or story before, I did my best to get through the day.
Things were going well until around 10 p.m. that night, when I got a text message. A text message from a number I had been attempting to forget for the past twelve months.
Say "Thank you!"
