I'm not Ready for This

            It was Wednesday evening and I was listening to my Starkers CD - Phil’s band! I felt like hearing him sing was the only connection I had left to him. The last words he had written to me were See ya, angel. I couldn’t help but wonder when I would see him again. I knew he would probably be at Relay on Thursday, but the problem was I didn’t know if I wanted to see him. I was mad at him for the way he had ended our last conversation, but mostly I was mad at myself for ever thinking he cared.

            I was lying on the living room floor with my laptop in front of me. Paddy was sitting next to me as I typed a list of pros and cons.

Pros and Cons of staying

Pros                       Cons

   Phil                        No Phil

I wasn’t getting anywhere and was beginning to reconsider the way I was approaching the situation. I needed to look at it from a different perspective, but mostly I needed to figure out who I really was and what I wanted. I stepped away from the computer and headed to my bedroom to find my journal. I felt like I had lost control of who I was since the New Year had begun and I couldn’t quite figure out why. Perhaps re-reading my recent entries will help me re-discover myself, I thought. There has to be something in here that will give me some sort of insight into my own life.

As I read through entries of those past three months, I realized that every entry revolved around one person, Phil. I had forgotten about me. I had been floating along ever since I had met him. I thought that there was a possibility that we had been designed to capture each other’s hearts, but the only reality was my obsession with it all. Suddenly I felt shaky. I grabbed my pen and started to scribble down words in my diary.

Dear boy who captured my heart,

I’m not who you think I am, and I’m probably not even the person I think I am. I guess I’m neither, but maybe someone in between. Not smart enough to avoid falling in love with you, but smart enough to push you away before you fall in love with me for fear of you blowing out my candles and stealing all of my wishes.

I’m not ready for this, I thought. I needed to get out of my Phil bubble before it was too late.

            It was Thursday afternoon and my work shift was about to end. I was getting ready to meet with Steven; my mind was made up. I had spoken to my friend Audrey and she was willing to stay in my apartment and look after Paddy while I was away. I knew the job was only for a few months, so that gave me enough time to clear my head and get away from the world that I had gotten lost in.  

            An hour later, I was on my way home. Everything was decided. I would leave in a week. Steven was kind enough to let me finish work on the upcoming Tuesday, which would give me the Wednesday and Thursday to get everything in order. He had helped me reserve my flight for the Friday morning so I could get settled in over the weekend. Everything was falling into place and I was getting really excited about leaving. I had decided to let go of the idea of Phil and I ever becoming anything more than friends. I had convinced myself that he did not exist and that I had only made it all up in my mind. I figured this would aid in the letting go process. I don’t get these girls that are heartbroken for months on end, it only took me a day to get over it, I realized feeling quite proud of myself. Perhaps I am just better at it, I considered. I bet I could be in the Guinness Book of World Records. I could see the headline Girl Gets Over boy in 24 Hours. Never mind Guinness Records, if word got out about this, I would be on Oprah telling my story, I thought as I imagined myself in a classic black dress à la Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Oprah was sitting on the chair beside me asking me to share my tips with the world.

"How did you do it?" Oprah would ask me. I felt a sparkle of delight all over as I imagined what I would say.

"Well Oprah, it’s quite simply really," I would say, trying to sound nonchalant. "I just..."

The bell on the bus went off breaking my thoughts. I looked out the window and realized I had missed my stop.  

I arrived home and tried to muster up the courage to call my mother to tell her about my decision. I had already spoken to my father about it and he said his usual ’oh that sound nice, dear’ and did I want him to call some people he knows in case I needed a place to stay? It only seemed right to tell mom too, and not just because I was secretly hoping she offered to pay for the plane ticket. Of course she will, I convinced myself. I mean why wouldn’t she? I wondered as I imagined the conversation. I pictured how the conversation would go, and imagined how ecstatic she would be at the thought of her youngest daughter going off to travel the world, or at least the west coast. So ecstatic, in fact, that she would even offer some extra pocket money. This is fabulous, I thought as the biggest smile began to emerge on my face. I could almost hear her excitement already.  I will just call her and tell her about all my brilliant plans and she will be so thrilled; it’s perfect, really, the thought transfixed me and suddenly I couldn’t remember why I was so nervous about it.

I picked up the phone and dialled the number. My mother answered with her, same as always, cheerful "helloooo", and before I knew it I pulled the phone away from my ear and hung up. That’s weird. I honestly don’t know why I did that...

            I jumped up, startled at the sound of the phone ringing, and let out a little yell. Before I could get to it, the answering machine came on, and I heard it again.

"Hellooooo!" Oh my god, it’s her, I realized. "Joyel, love, it’s your mother, helloooooo. Did you just call me, baby?" 

How on earth did she...

"Well obviously you did, I see it here on the caller display, it must have cut off, we’ve been having problems with this phone..." her voice trails off. 

Shit. Why am I so panicked? And more importantly why am I hiding behind the couch? This is ridiculous, I’ll just pick up, I thought.

In a distance, I could still hear my mother on the answering machine telling me about what she did all morning. 

"...and I told Louis that we need to get a new phone..." 

Well she’s obviously in the middle of a story I can’t interrupt her now; that would be rude, I considered. Maybe I’ll go start packing and call her back later.