I haven't heard from Chris since Las Vegas. That was the end of October. The day the Yankees won the pennant. The day I got my second tattoo. Before I become the interim director at my job. Before I tried to carry an embryo created with another woman's egg.
I haven't heard from Chris, and honestly, I haven't wanted to. That's not to say I haven't thought about him every now and then. I have. Clearly I have, or I wouldn't be writing this.
But I've thought about him in the way that I let that Friday night in Vegas seep into my thoughts as I fall asleep. I thought about him when I thought about Opening Day, and how we always talked baseball. And I've thought about how I haven't heard from him.
Something must have finally gotten to him. Something must have finally spooked him straight. I always let him be in control of our relationship -- and that is to say, he was the one with the risks, he was the one with something to lose, I was just having fun.
And so he was the one who (almost) always called. He was the one who would take a break for a few months and then suddenly appear out of the blue with his cocky "hey there" on the other end of the phone. He was the one who always initiated.
I hope he's happy. I hope he doesn't regret me in his life. And if he does regret me, I hope he can see the responsibility he owns in that.
I will probably always think about him. Funny enough, I don't miss him.
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1 comment:
Hi Ellie. I admire you for sharing your stories. Reading your blog is interesting and also intertaining. You write with such freedom when expressing your words. For me it's totaly different, I get stuck on what I should I write and then I ultimately end up writing nothing. But thanks for some much needed inspiration!!!
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