He tried to call me. I didn't answer. He tried again. I didn't answer. He texted me. I deleted his messages without reading them. After 3 weeks he stopped. I was relieved.
I'm not going to lie to you: I was a mess. I didn't want to leave my bed. And when someone opened my bedroom door, I just tuned my back. I wanted to be alone. I needed the world around me to stop existing. I needed this unbearable aching in my chest to stop. But most of all I needed the memory of his face, touch, voice, smell, laugh... to be erased from my head.
1 month later
I opened my eyes. It was too early to wake up, so it was a perfect time, in my mind, to wake up. I smelled bad. I needed a shower. I tiptoed to bathroom and stood under the hot water nearly an hour. It was time for me to crawl out of my pity hole. It was time to step back into the world. And I couldn't do it if I smelled like a homeless person. I washed my hair 4 times to make sure it was clean. As I turned the water off, I heard a silent nock on the door.
"Netta, honey? Are you alright." my mom whispered. I guess I had woken her up.
"Yep. I just needed a shover." I answered giggling for some reason.
"Ok. It's three a clock. You do know that.." she continued sounding extremely confused.
"Ok. Well, I'm going back to bed."
I took my towel and wrapped it around me. Then I stood in front of the mirror. I looked awful. I was pale, though I had been in a hot shower. My eyes looked tired and my whole posture was tired. I looked 5 inches smaller than before.
"Well, you sexy beast. Today you need to man up." I said.
I sat in my parents' living room thinking what my whole "man up" thing really meant. It was 5 AM so I was in no hurry.
"A plan. I need a plan." I said out loud. Two hours later my parents came downstairs. They were curious and worried.
"You don't have to worry, guys. I have a plan. Today my life will go back to normal."
10 hours later
The plan failed. I was in a supermarket where I saw a NHL magazine. He was on the cover.