top of page

In the end...

They all found love in the end. This gave me hope. Unfortunately, like the preceding sentence, that  was short lived. Love wasn't for everyone and I'd failed to accept this when it mattered most and now I was here battling in my mind wether I'd been consumed by jealousy or loneliness.

Oh boy was I lonely. I thought about the last time I had sex. It wasn't that long ago to be perfectly honest. It was, however, empty. It was literally me lying there and waiting for it to end. When it did, I couldn't wait to leave and I did so faster than ever. I was empty and lonely. I had never made love and even though I had a boyfriend, love wasn't on the page. Heck, it wasn't even in the darn book. But they don't tell you that. No, they tell you that love is at the end of the book. They tell you to hold on.  So when I looked around and saw couples all around, the hope inside me held on. Eventually that hope fizzled away, and slowly, I became jealous of these sightings. I'd see a couple and an instant pang of jealousy would overwhelm me.

Now that I was single however, I wasn't sure which of the two feelings was more prominent. They were both there jealousy and hope, strong in fact, but one was more dominant than the other. I just couldn't tell which.  I took a deep drag from my cigarette and thought about my mother. She'd slap me so hard if she could see me right now. This turned my mood off from smoking, so I put out the cig and poured myself a cup of rum. Normally I'd've found a mixer, but for the past number of days... wait, how many days had it been? I sprawled over my bed to check my phone... battery dead. I opened my laptop... battery dead. I glanced up at the mantle and saw the remote. It was too far and to be honest, I wasn't that bothered about the time.

I covered my head with the duvet... I could now get a whiff of my stench, but I wasn't put off by it. I just resurfaced and closed my eyes. Why was I behaving this way? I knew that we weren't in love. I knew that something was wrong, so why was I so annoyed that Jason had cheated?  The bastard. I thought. I began to think of Joel's face. He must've really derived pleasure from delivering that news. I hated him for that.

I hated Jason for doing the one thing that I couldn't stand. But even more I hated myself, a victim for the umpteenth time. So that's when it dawned on me. I wasn't a victim. I was just someone who was trying to adapt someone else's ending to my story. Love wasn't for everyone. And it sure as hell wasn't for me.


The sun glistened over the river, shining on the minimal waves looking like silver in the water. It was pretty, just like every other thing I’d noticed in my time away from the block. I closed my eyes as La vie en rose played in the background of the cruise. This was my umpteenth time on the cruise, but it still felt like the first time. The air was still fresh and the breeze still cool and gentle against the skin.  

I chuckled to myself as I pulled out my sun glasses. The weather was a degree short of perfection. No, in fact it was perfection. Or maybe my hat was just doing a perfect job. I still had another 40 minutes to go, so I pulled out my tablet and began to read. The smell of roses was the only book I had downloaded, and honestly the tablet didn't do the book justice. I preferred to hold a hardcopy, but me doing so would mean I'd be hurting Jason's feelings, after all, the e-book reader, was a present from him. I thought about how he'd be preparing for my return to New York. Nine months of absence and two since his last visit. I mean sure we text, chat and video called frequently, but the physical was always different with us. As is with many couples, there's the sex, cuddles and that, but with Jason and I there was an unspoken tension. Everything felt like an act of avoidance. He knew it, I knew it, but we never addressed it. If it wasn't there, I'm pretty sure we wouldn't be either. 

I looked up at the Eiffel Tower, I should go there one last time, after all it was the reason I was leaving. I was going home! I was going to Jason, but more importantly. I was returning to the block. 


I sat at the cafe in something close to shock, but not quite at it. I had seen it coming. I knew Jason was over us, but still there was a pain that came with being cheated on. Truthfully, Jason was the answer to my companionship cravings, my sexual desires and my parents questions to where is your husband. The reality was that we'd drifted apart. No that's a lie. We were never really together in that way.  Joel came back from the bathroom and droned on about Jason feeling terrible and how he wanted me back and how he was ready for the next stage of life and that included me. I pretended as hard as I could to be upset, and that seemed to ignite a fire within him. This man despised me. It was mainly because he was in love with Jason and he knew I didn't love Jason. Jason on the other hand, wasn't sure what he wanted. If it was me, if it was Joel or if it was promiscuity. Either way, I was removing myself from the picture.  I wasn't sure what exactly Joel was saying when I stood up. I smiled at him and told him I was going back to Paris. He was free to relay this information to Jason, but that wasn't going to do much. I'd made up my mind to leave and go live a live free from anticipating love.


Recent Posts
bottom of page