The Overthinkers

“Did you message her yet?”

“Yes, 2 days ago I did.”

“Then?”

“Obviously she ignored me.”

“Tss. What did you tell her?”

“I said Hi and I told her I find her hot.”

“Whuat?! Are you out of your mind?”

“Nooo, what’s wrong with that? I was just being honest.”

“Dude, she’s a one decent fine woman.. and you told her that she’s HOT???”

“Yea, isn’t she?”

“She is, but man.. You should have used a much better adjective to describe her.”

“Like?”

“Like, the clichéd ones: beautiful, gorgeous, amazing or pretty.”

“But like you said, those are clichés, isn’t that going to sound boring?”

“I mean yes but that’s way better than to sound like a perv.”

“Jeez, you have a point. I shouldn’t have said that. But anywho, how about you? How was your date last night?”

“Yea you’re an idiot. Hmm, well it was okay.”

“Okay? Not great or even good?”

“Ugh, she’s okay but she’s a gemini.”

“A gemini? Haha! So?”

“It’s possible that she has a dual personality, you know.”

“Are you serious? Lol. I didn’t know you’re into Astrology.”

“Well I’ve been reading some lately but anyway it’s not solely about her sign.”

“You ridiculous. So what’s the catch?”

“The thing is, she never had a boyfriend yet, ever.”

“Oh, isn’t that a good thing?”

“It could be. But she doesn’t have any experiences in romantic relationships yet. That means I’m going to teach her everything, that’s tedious, man!”

“I can’t believe you. That’s lame.”

“Tss. Plus, she loves kids. She told me she wishes to have kids before she reach 24. And she’s 20. Isn’t that scary?”

“Oh no, that’s a red flag!”

“Exactly. But she’s so attractive, ugh. Have you seen the latest picture she just posted on Instagram?”

“Oh hell yea, she looks flawless on that pic.”

“I know, but she loves the filters.”

“Lol, how did you know?”

“Last night she spent almost half an hour editing her selfie, she’s even asking me which filter looks best on her.”

“No way. I hope girls know that being natural and filter free or a no make-up kind is the bomb!”

“Absolutely! I don’t even understand why they have to cover their true beauty behind those thick foundations.”

“Me too. So you’re not going to see her again?”

“I’m indecisive. But maybe. We’ll see.”

(Photo credit to the real owner)

A woman’s edge (Part 2)

He was still sleeping. The sound I made didn’t wake him up, ugh thank goodness. I silently made my way outside our room to search for a charger but I couldn’t find any. In the back of my head I was praying that the battery lasts ’til I get to feed the instincts of a crazy wife that I am. I hurriedly went to our bathroom downstairs and there I decided to read the secrets on this evil phone. It obviously doesn’t require a password, just by clicking the home button and the * key, it’s now unlocked! I took a deep breath before I clicked on the inbox. 

Holy sh*t!

I knew it. A woman’s instinct has always been right. Even though I haven’t read yet what’s inside the messages of the only person by the name of “Babe”, my heart was crushed in an instant. Both my eyes couldn’t help themselves but to release the pain by some initially tiny drops that has multiplied to such a heavy flow, no matter how much I force myself to stay composed, i just couldn’t. At this very moment, the walls look like they’re gonna break at any minute and I would unhesitatingly let it destroy me. I let the water flow in the faucet by the sink so just in case he figured out I wasn’t beside him and searched for me, he wouldn’t get to hear me crying.

And then after my drama scene just like in the movies, a sudden air of relief passed by reminding me to stay focused. I washed my face with cold water to wipe away the extra weight off it. I had to be brave, I thought. So I decided to read the messages and the first three messages read:

“I’m here now, where are you?” received 8:46 am 01/14/18

“I can’t wait to see you, babe.” received 08:30 am 01/13/18

“Babe, we’ll get through this. I love you, okay?” received 04:11 pm 01/12/18

Damn, it seriously hurts. I just utterly lost it—I shrieked carelessly finding myself sitting at the corner near the tub. I embraced both my legs whilst my face pressed onto my knees, no longer minding the sound I have to make because my mind is now filled with too much agonies. I have lost my supposed to be children, and now I am about to lose my husband. The voice inside me was blaming me, telling me it was all my fault. That maybe if I listened to him and didn’t get lost in the pain of the miscarriages, he shouldn’t have done this. The ones you see in the movies showing the strength of the wife being cheated on is a total bullsh*t. It’s really heart-shattering, or maybe I’m just too weak.

The evil phone beeped twice again showing a reminder of it’s critical low battery so I quickly looked at the call logs even before it goes off. Whilst still sitting on the bathroom floor I viewed the number of this slutty babe who’s been f*cking my husband. I was startled as soon as I get to see the number… Oh my God!

The number registered by the code name of “Babe” is not my husband’s mistress’s. It’s my husband’s number! This is clearly not Ryan’s phone but the mysterious mistress’s! Why is this in Ryan’s bag anyway? And the messages I just read were his messages to her. A sudden deep pinch weaken my soul for this revelation.

Even before I get to scrutinize the phone more, the screen goes off and turned black. The battery is now dead. I looked up and the clock says it’s already 2:01 am so I decided to clean off the mess that I am and went back to our room.

Ryan was still sleeping soundly when I entered our room. I still managed to sleep beside him despite the urge to wake him up so I could confront him. I stared closely at the back of his head, listening closely to the odd rhythm of his breathing, contemplating whether to wake him up or just wait for the alarm clock to sing.

I did the latter. It’s 6:58 in the morning now and I haven’t slept yet. If you were in my shoes how could you sleep knowing that your partner in life has betrayed you? In roughly two minutes the alarm went off. He shoved his hand to get his phone below his pillow and tapped the snooze button. I snatched the phone from him with such force and it apparently startled him.

“What’s wrong with you?”, he uttered in a calm yet surprised manner.

“I found an old phone from your laptop bag. Whose phone is that?” I said whilst standing up preparing myself for an emotional debate, his IPhone still on my right hand, the evil phone on the left. I didn’t wanna go around the bush anymore so I confronted him right away.

“What phone? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”, said Ryan in a high pitched tone this time, his voice is obviously shaking.

“Oh, c’mon Ry, stop lying to my face. You’ve been cheating on me, how long has this been going on? Who owns this f*ckin phone who looks like she literally left it in your bag so I could find out about this!”, I shouted, trying to hold back the tears that are about to fall.

“Sam, you’re hallucinating. I understand how the miscarriage affected you, I was badly hurt too. Please, just stop this”, he said whilst trying to go near me reaching for my hands. But I kept on circling around the room because I don’t want to feel his skin that has touched a different woman.

“Whuat?! Are you saying I’m just making this up?!”, I said with my left hand raising the small evil phone like a student waiting for the teacher to call me.

This time I wasn’t able to hold it, tears began falling, it’s too much of a pain.

He sighed deeply but failed to answer me. He refused to respond and decided to walk away. With so much anger I didn’t know what to do. He walked away again, like he always do.

I heard the door closed and by the window I saw him about to get in to the car. I usually just stay home and I never bothered following him everytime we have a serious fight. But this time, the voice inside me shouted at me saying I should do something. I hurriedly took off my night dress, grabbed my shirt and jeans from the closet and changed, picked up my bag and rapidly went out and locked the door. Luckily, I didn’t take so much time to find a taxi and he’s still in my radar. I instructed the driver to follow my husband to find out where he’s going. Because most likely, Ryan’s going to see her.

To be continued…

#fiction

Thank you, Facebook.

I set the alarm at 4:30am tomorrow and decided that I’m going to sleep early today but my brain can’t seem to shut down—vividly rewinding all the events of this day, contemplating about the things I’m supposed to do tomorrow, carefully calculating the targets I have to hit, worried about the book I have to finish, counting the clients I have to call and thinking about our good old memories—I have more to add but you don’t care anyway so I wouldn’t jot them all down no more. My point is, I feel so restless for the hectic list of to-do’s that keep on flashing in my head it’s making me so anxious because I just f—ckn wanna go to sleep but I caaaaannn’t, UGH!!! Have you ever felt this way too? I reckon you do. So what do you normally do when you can’t sleep?

Facebook?

Hmm. No. This ain’t right.

He cheated on me, I should stop stalking him.

Yes. It’s been three weeks since.

I couldn’t focus because of this urge again. To view his profile. To stare endlessly at his solo photos and them ones with her. To crush my heart with my own hands. To kill my soul with the growing jealousy in me. It has grown so much it agonises my poor self. But i loved it—the torture I bestowed upon myself like an honor of excellence awarded to me. I get so damn hurt but at least I get to see him, you know? It’s a rewarding torture after all.

I picked up the laptop lying on top my bedside table and pursued the calling to open Facebook. So I logged in. In two seconds the news feed blatantly presented his newly posted picture two hours ago. Wow, facebook! You didn’t even give me a chance to hesitate to type his name on the search box!

Sigh.

I felt a sudden pinch in my heart it kinda burns. I stared at the photo he posted for like a minute, with the caption that says: “With my gorgeous princess.” 

Wow. He used to call me his princess back then. Ha ha! He didn’t even bother changing it! Brilliant! Then, I clicked on the comments below and a lot of people are congratulating them—telling them the they-look-good-together lie, and there’s this one girl by the name of Jane Lee who left a comment that I even had to zoom in to ascertain the exact words my eyes had just read…

“He used to call me his princess too, don’t fall on that trap.” 

I’m like WTFFFFFF!!!!!

I don’t know what to feel. Each word from that random comment stunned me it goes deep within my veins, my blood couldn’t even flow anymore—I think it’s stopped. My heart is now beatless, lifeless. He didn’t just cheat on me alone, he cheated on me and Jane and even on that foolish girl on the picture he just posted. What an a*shole!!!!

I couldn’t contain the unidentified emotion I am feeling right now so I slammed the laptop close and zoned out for like two minutes with my mouth open and my eyes that suddenly forgot to blink.

The love I thought I still have for him instantly vanished like a bubble. This unidentified peculiar kind of emotion replaced the crazy kind of love I initially had for him. It’s that inexplicably odd feeling that makes you numb from the weird mix of love and hatred and anger and regret that is at some point a sense of freedom. I am now free from the trap, from his trap.

I smiled nonchalantly like some sort of an invisible thorn was taken away from my flesh. It’s still bleeding but it feels lighter. There’s a visible wound, but it’s going to heal soon, I am sure of that.

If not with the urge to stalk him again through Facebook, I wouldn’t be utterly awaken from this nightmare. If there’s one thing I learned from this experience tonight, it is the idea of spoiling yourself, albeit knowing it’s bad for you and expecting a certain punishment that will add up to your list of experiences from which you learn from—hence you grow and become wiser. This moral lesson (lol) abruptly just cleared my head, released all them worries free, thus now I think I’m ready for a goodnight sleep.

#fiction

(Photo credit to the owner)