Page 82 of For Keeps. For Always.

I pick up my phone, deleting the copious text messages from Jacinta without reading them. I cut my mother from my life years ago. It wasn’t a notable moment. In fact, it had the same flair as many of our other conversations. Said with limited feeling and very few words.

She reaches out on occasion. I made the mistake of reaching back the first few times. But she only ever contacted me when she was lonely. When her boyfriend wasn’t paying her enough attention, or when she thought I’d wrangle money from Derrick for her. Which is ridiculous, considering I haven’t spoken to him since the year she dragged me from my home.

I refresh my social media. I check my emails, spam included. I scroll through my texts,justin case I missed it.

But nothing.

The one person I want to hear from, even though I don’t (I know, figure that one out and let me know once you do), hasn’t reached out.

Absolute. Radio. Fucking. Silence.

I drop back to my bed. Body splayed out on the excessive thread count as if it matters.

Brooks Riley will be the death of me.

Of my heart for certain.

What I’ve come to realize over these past months is that we’re merely pieces of a giant jigsaw puzzle in this life. Once upon a time, Brooks’s and my pieces connected perfectly. They joined without issue and helped make a beautiful image. The prettiness of the picture wasn’t complete without us side by side.

But over time, we’ve changed. Our pieces have adapted to reflect the new people we’ve morphed into.

Brooks and I no longer fit.

Forcing ourselves together only misaligns every other aspect of the puzzle. The result isn’t a beautiful picture, pieced together over time and patience. It’s worthless and, frankly, downright ugly.

If perspective has taught me anything, it’s that Brooks and I are two pieces destined for opposite sides of the expansive picture. Maybe, one day, as we change and mature and morph into the people we’re meant to be, our jigsaw will connect once again. But for now, we’re just two pieces of a billion, wondering if we’ll ever find where we belong.

The past three months have been a trip down memory lane like no other. One saturated in self-reflection and censure. I’ve picked apart Brooks’s and my relationship. Every moment; the good, the bad, and the downright fucking ugly. And trust me, there’s been plenty of ugly.

I’ve made mistakes.

A lot of them.

Possibly too many to count.

But I tallied them up. Each and every one. I analyzed every single stumble I’ve trudged through. It hit me like an epiphany I never wanted.

It was me.

It wasallme.

Right up until this very last interaction.

Brooks has spent the last few years declaring his love for me, and I grabbed on to it like a fucking lottery check whether I was in the frame of mind to accept it or not. I was so deprived of love and affection that when it was open to me, I stared at it blindly, rejecting the possibility of its truth.

Lifting my phone above my face, I search through my contacts, seeking out his name.

I block his number and then delete it from my phone.

I move my photos next, ignoring the tears that leak down my temples as I expunge any hint of him from my life.

Logging into my social media accounts, I remove and block him from those as well. I can’t look at his life in pictures anymore. I can’t see him living his life and being happy doing it. Without me.

It’s a cathartic process. One that feels as necessary as it does painful.

It’s not the first time I’ve cut Brooks out of my life, but I can recognize it’s the most poignant. The slices our union has carved into my heart are a constant ache in my life.

One that I need to erase.

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