When You Should Be Regretting Second Chances


I saw the messages from her, I saw the odd little ways you were trying to avoid me when there wasn’t supposed to be anything to avoid. That was six months ago. But second chances for you never seem to be running out.

Like all dirty laundry, yours was eventually hung out to dry. Yes, there were tears, screaming, and had I not been able to stop myself, I would have probably gotten physical too. That was six months ago.

Then the silent period. The corny social media game where we would post who was having the most fun being out of our relationship. The unspoken contest on who could move on faster. That was six months ago.

A text out of nowhere from you, a few messages every few days. Then it eventually progressed into calls. Against what probably was very sound advice from my girl friends, I answered it. Every last one. That was six months ago.

Then you said you wanted to meet up. We did, and you had changed up your look somehow. Looking cleaner, I think. You said you liked my new hair. Thank you, I offered. Then we took a walk.

You started your monologue. An idiot. A total mess. Wasted our years together, not counting the time we were in the courting stage before officially adopting the boyfriend-girlfriend label. I am so sorry for hurting you like that, you said. Our breakup was all on you, you said.

“Can I please try to make it better? I keep thinking about you,” you said. That was six months ago.

I said to give me a few days to think about it. You looked a little disappointed; not getting ‘The Notebook’ style forgiveness and reunion that was probably in your head. But you agreed.

“I’m sorry to come out here suddenly, begging for you to take me back,” you said as you dropped me off.

A few days later, you received a phone call while you were in line for coffee and bagels.

“Okay. Let’s give it another try.”

I swear, I could almost hear you race out of the café after my call. That was three months ago.

Now, even though I don’t ask of it from you, your phone is left unlocked, you give me your passwords to everything, and you don’t mind leaving your phone alone in a room with me.

I’m still skeptical for sure, because hey, I’ve been cheated on by someone I thought I could trust, just when I thought we were old enough to avoid that.

You’re in major making-up mode, and I appreciate the effort, to be honest.

Just please, after the dust has settled, don’t let me regret giving you another chance.


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