I always make fun of the “You know, I think it’s funny how…” memes, but when real-life applications leave you speechless sometimes it’s best to just reflect on what exactly is life.
Imagine, I was 21-years-old, in my first relationship and we hit a snag. Well, not intentionally.
You see, the thing was, I was going through my seasonal depressive phase and while we didn’t’ actually talk at lengths about it, he knew.
But still, here we are, two months of silence and I was thinking ‘Oh cool, I’m single now’ – but lo and behold, here he comes, calling as if nothing happened.
“Hey, I want to see you. Where are you?” the pharmacist asks me.
“I’m staying with family, what’s up?” I respond.
“Okay, so I’m still working in Mandeville but I’ll be home this weekend, are you coming over?” he continues.
“I mean sure,” I say.
So we met just outside Spanish Town and then head to Portmore. There’s no food at the house so we stop at a supermarket in Portmore Pines, when the confession comes.
“Um, can I ask you something? And tell me the truth,” he begins.
Me, getting anxious: “Okay? Sure…”
“During the time we weren’t talking did you sleep with anyone?”
Me, sitting in the car wondering how I’d find time to have sex when I’m just trying to resist the urge to hurt myself during my depression: “No…?”
“Oh, okay good. I have something I need to tell you. And I’m only saying it because at this point I feel like you love me,” he argues.
“While I was working in Mandeville I slept with two people, but it didn’t mean anything. I realise now that I care for you so I’m coming clean and being honest. I’m sorry,” he says.
And for the first time during the whole drive, in the almost empty parking lot, there was silence.
I sat and I processed the information just thrown at me, but if I didn’t admit I was taken aback, I’d be lying.
So, not once, but you cheated on me twice? When you knew I was depressed and knew I loved you but was struggling with so many emotions?
And suddenly, you think with your ‘coming clean’ this makes the act somewhat bearable?
Help me to understand.
“Okay,” I respond, “So what now?”
“Now, we start over,” he responds and I guess I thought about trying to.
By the Saturday morning, we had sex (don’t judge me, harlots) and I suddenly was washed with the need to go home. Like RIGHT NOW.
We said nothing to each other all of Sunday when suddenly I get flooded with texts.
“Hey babe,” he starts.
“This weekend was amazing,” the next text reads.
“Thanks for being so understanding with me. I really feel strongly about you.” Excuse me?
I play along, and I respond, well at this rate, this will be your current standard.
“Relationship-wise or sex-wise?” he inquires.
I kept quiet. But the messages keep coming…
“Well, in that case, I need to get some more outside practice in. Can’t be caught slipping.”
Wait that was what he just said, right? That was sent to ME, literally days after the ‘confession’?
And right there I lost it.
“So if you need other people to practise with–. Lol. You know what? This was fun.”
“Lose my number. Don’t text. Don’t call. Forget you even met me, cuz I’m not about getting played knowingly…my granny didn’t raise a tufenke.”
“I don’t understand, what’s going on?”
“I’m going through a lot right now and I don’t need you playing with my emotions. This ends now.”
“But I thought –”
“You thought what? That I’d drink your idiot juice and go back to whatever ‘normal’ you consider this to be? KMT. Stop call me.”
And for the next three months, I was hounded: ‘Why are you doing this?’, ‘I really loved you’, ‘I’m sorry’, ‘Please talk to me’.
The calls still came, some laced with crocodile tears; other times I was stalked at work, but I just think it’s funny how you cheated and suddenly I’m the one who hurt you? Make it make sense, please.
— Article written by Ashley DeSousa