Tears started to stream down my cheeks. My lips were shivering. There were so many thoughts running through my mind. Memories were swimming and I couldn’t find a way to stop it. I let it occupy my mind rather than focusing on the movie or the couple making out a couple rows in front of me.
I gripped my phone tighter then closed my eyes. The darkness soon showed me what brought me to the cinema.
I was in a bar for the very first time in my entire life. The plan was to drown myself in alcohol until I couldn’t feel anything because after a year, I still couldn’t stop thinking of what I did wrong to be left by him.
By the time that I had a few shots in my system, I started to try calling my ex’s number. Third try and he picked up.
“I still love you, James. Come back, please. You have no idea how messed up my life has been since you left. I need you, baby.” Without waiting for his response, I hung up. I didn’t want to hear him tell me he won’t be coming back. After one last shot, I went home.
As I was unlocking the front door, I heard a familiar voice say my name, “Mae?” I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. I heard him shuffle.
My heart was pounding. It has been a year since we last saw each other and that last moment was our break-up. I was in the middle of running inside the house or facing the guy who broke me.
It felt like my heart skipped when I felt his breath on my neck. I didn’t know if it was just me or he smelled like alcohol. He started planting kisses on my neck. I breathed heavily, savoring the moment. He made me face him, cupped my cheeks, and then kissed me hungrily.
The pain melted. For the rest of the night, I felt like I wasn’t broken. James was fixing me with every kiss and every touch.
The rest was a bit blurry, probably due to the alcohol.
I woke up at around noon. I turned to look at James but all I saw on the empty space beside me was my phone. Upon opening it, I saw a text message from him.
James: I’m sorry. I was drunk last night. It was a mistake.
Of course it was.
I was drunk enough to think he fixed me. We can’t be fixed by the person that broke us. I felt so stupid for letting him break me again.
As I usually do when I’m sad, I freshen up then went to the cinema. I hoped that I would feel better but sitting alone in the middle of the cinema, watching a Chick-Flick, wasn’t really the solution.
Wherever I go, I would always carry the mistakes that has never been fixed.