Long­ing for that last break up con­fir­ma­tion call

Sunday News (Zimbabwe) - - Relationships/health/news -

NOT so long ago, I pro­posed that some pub­lic re­la­tions and com­mu­ni­ca­tions guru should es­tab­lish a divi­sion for break-ups in their com­pany.

I have found that even the grand­est of word­smiths are re­luc­tant and tor­mented by the idea of ini­ti­at­ing the break-up con­ver­sa­tion.

We need an agency, with no vested in­ter­est in the re­la­tion­ship, to send an agent to the per­son you need to dump and fa­cil­i­tate a clean break from them. It would be great if they could visit them at work dur­ing tea time — to min­imise the in­ter­ac­tion to no more than 15 min­utes.

They’d in­form the un­for­tu­nate lover of the dis­so­lu­tion of the re­la­tion­ship and apol­o­gise pro­fusely on your be­half.

You would only have to cringe at read­ing the feed­back on how they re­acted to the news with­out the bur­den of per­son­ally dump­ing a per­son. Then both par­ties can grieve the re­la­tion­ship with­out any messy con­fronta­tions.

Of course, the idea is ab­surd, but the task of end­ing a ro­mance re­mains one of the most ex­act­ing ex­er­cises in the en­tire scope of adult­ing.

This is per­haps the rea­son I have found my­self lin­ger­ing in an “it’s com­pli­cated” re­la­tion­ship phase.

There were mo­ments when I would meet po­ten­tial lovers with great prospects who would want to know if I am sin­gle or not — a fair ques­tion when one is try­ing to find favour with your heart and hopes to have your un­di­vided at­ten­tion. How­ever, it proved quite a tricky ques­tion, con­sid­er­ing that I, my­self, wasn’t quite sure.

A few years ago I was in what ap­peared to be a great re­la­tion­ship. He was tall, and won my heart with those long phone calls that went on un­til I’d fall asleep with my phone in my hand.

Even the texts read like the kind of trea­sures I would col­lect and keep for­ever. I was in love and had no doubt that I was loved too.

There must have been a quiet storm that I missed while float­ing on cloud nine. I woke up one day and re­alised that I had not got­ten a hold of this guy for a few days.

The strange thing was that his phone rang on all at­tempts of call­ing him. Only he did not an­swer a sin­gle call, nor did he bother to re­spond to my mes­sages of vary­ing emo­tions.

I can­not deny that there must have been a few curses thrown amid the texts I sent to ex­press my con­cerns and frus­tra­tions. I re­fused to be­lieve that he was ig­nor­ing me on pur­pose. I could not fathom how a guy whose last words were “I love you” would sud­denly not want any­thing to do with me in a space of a week.

So I started for­mu­lat­ing all forms of ex­cuses for him — in­clud­ing the pos­si­bil­ity that he had been kid­napped by Boko Haram, or some­thing!

Even­tu­ally, I told my­self I would write one more mes­sage then ac­cept that he is dead and prob­a­bly got buried by the govern­ment as a John Doe.

So I sent a “YOU BET­TER BE DEAD!!!” text in the mid­dle of a non-goal-di­rected meet­ing at work. Sur­pris­ingly, he sent a re­sponse. It was a short, “Busy. Will call later.”

The re­lief and ju­bi­la­tion was short lived. No call was forth­com­ing. I spent a few weeks in con­fu­sion and dis­may.

That man did not ever call. He left me hang­ing, won­der­ing if I should con­sider my­self sin­gle and con­tinue dat­ing or wait to hear what went wrong. I spent the next sev­eral weeks aching for that call so that I could tell him to voet­sek side­ways and never call me again.

The de­pri­va­tion of clo­sure held me hostage to a nonex­is­tent re­la­tion­ship.

I wanted that one last call. I wanted to at least hear him tell me that it is over. It would have been bet­ter than just sit­ting in limbo won­der­ing what could have pos­si­bly gone wrong. — By Kwanele Ndlovu, Sowe­tan. co.za

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Zimbabwe

© PressReader. All rights reserved.