jackie

Issues had started to arise after he had begun to pursue tennis further, meanwhile you were stuck at a crossroads on where exactly to go. You didn’t want to just follow him around like a lost puppy for the rest of your days. But outside of the internship you had lined up right out of college you hadn’t thought much on where you intended to go. So while he was always in and out of your shared apartment, you ended up stuck always waiting for him to return.

You knew he was destined for greater things. But you thought that you would be included in that vision. Instead of being left behind. When you had planned your lives it was always supposed to be together. You were going to become a successful journalist, and he would be one of the best tennis players to ever do it. But since your dreams had been stalling as of late, you didn’t expect for him to just wait for you to catch up.

No, he had kept going. And kept fighting his way towards the top. And you were left behind in his shadow. Which was funny to think about because that’s exactly what Tashi had told you would happen all those years ago.

That had quickly caused tension that had yet to ease between the two of you. It didn’t seem like it intended to stop either. So you just sat in your despair that you would amalgamate to nothing compared to your partner. It wasn’t jealousy. It was longing. To be a part of this next chapter in his life, and not off to the side. Happy and ready for him to return to you.

But as weeks and months passed it became clearer and clearer to you that there was no escaping this fate. The spark was dimming, and it felt like you couldn’t even begin to put up a fight for it to keep burning.

-

“When do you think you’ll be back?”

Art had already been gone on his press tour for what felt like forever. Taking interviews all across the country to celebrate his most recent win at Wimbledon. Of course you were incredibly happy for him, but still you yearned to be by his side again.

Art paused on the other end of the line. It was times like these where you wished you could read him better. It hurt not knowing exactly where his head was at.

“Uh, could be a while. Two weeks, maybe.”

You frowned, sinking further into the couch that sat in your lonely living room. “Two weeks? Art–” He had been gone for so long. And now you would have to wait even longer. It made you sick to the stomach.

“Yeah… I know it’s not ideal for us.”

“I mean that is— one way to put it.”

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound the part. And in the background you could hear someone you couldn’t even begin to name yelling at him to wrap it up. It made you think of how excluded you were from his life at this point. The two of you had barely been talking for five minutes. And already he would have to leave you.

“Uh-huh.” You felt like throwing your phone halfway across the room and screaming into the nearest pillow.

“Look, I really am sorry. I hate doing these interviews.” Whenever you got the chance to catch them on TV it didn’t feel like that. Sometimes he looked happier, then he had been with you for months. You wished he would smile that much when he saw you.

You reserved not to fight his comment though. And just went along with what he was telling you.“It’s fine, Art. I’m used to it at this point.”

“I have to go now.”

“Can we at least talk more later tonight?” There was a kind of desperate plea behind your voice.

And then there was a deafening silence on the other end of the line. “I would, but I’m getting dinner with an old friend.” Your mind immediately went to the worst. Tashi. It was a gut feeling. One you couldn’t even begin to explain or express out loud. But you refused to believe that could be true. She’d caught off contact, right before you and Art had officially started dating. Which was unintentionally your fault.

“I’ll call you when I can though. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

And then he hung up on you. No final ‘I love you’ or ‘good night.’ Just the click of his phone cutting out. You wanted to cry, scream, and throw a fit. But it wasn’t worth it. You had been dealing with this for the past month, and now it felt like he was already moving on. While you two were still together. Lining up his options in preparation for the imminent end.

And he wasn’t even trying to hide it from you anymore. The beginning of the end had already been accepted.

-

When Art finally did come back home after his nearly two month long victory lap, he barely spoke with you. That first night he crawled into your shared bed and wrapped his arms around you. And the only thought you had was how forced it felt. Between the both of you. There was no meaning anymore. You were holding each other just so you could be holding someone. It wouldn’t change the way it felt if it was some stranger you found on the side of the road laying next to you.

This level of distance would’ve never seemed real to you, not even a year ago. But you were so checked out of this relationship. And so was he. It didn’t seem to matter who the warmth at the end of the night came from.

The second night didn't seem like it was going to be much different. But then, Art seemed much more introspective. Like he was ready to unleash a secret he had kept buried in his chest.

He froze in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watched you prepare to sleep. “Why didn’t you just come with me?”

“Is that what this is about?” The distance. The silence. The lack of emotions.

“Somewhat.” Art was waiting for your response before attempting to continue.

“If I had come with you would that really have fixed anything.”

“We could’ve at least tried.”

“No, Art. You know that’s not true,” A thousand more unspoken words ran through your head. Ways to phrase things and truly express how you had been feeling. But that required more effort than you were capable of giving anymore. A fog had begun to cloud your mind, making it impossible to speak any of your racing thoughts out loud.

“I don’t think I love you anymore. I don’t think I have for a while. And I think you’ve known this too for a while. Two weeks ago I had dinner with Tashi. It was nice, we caught up with each other. Then we went back to my hotel room and– ” There was the admission you had been waiting to hear. But instead of anger or disappointment the only thing you felt was a bitter acceptance.

“I get the point. But what exactly do you want me to say to that?”

“I want you to just listen. Look, I'm trying to be honest with you right now. I’m done with fucking lying about how I feel.” he moved closer to you, kneeling in front of where you were sitting on the bed. He reached up and tried placing a hand onto your cheek. It was an act meant to pull you in closer and reassure you. But it only twisted the knife he had dug into your heart even further.

You moved backwards, leaning away from him. “Stop it. This is pointless and mean.”

“This is only hurting the both of us. I’m finally trying to get us to actually talk about this. Because it’s been actively killing me inside and out for a while now. And it doesn’t feel like you care at all.”

It was true. You didn’t. The words he spoke weren’t even registering to you anymore. But you still managed to get the point. Art wanted to move on, he had gotten sick of you. Just like Tashi said he would. She could never be wrong. No matter what. Maybe that’s why he had slept with her.

“Just tell me you hate me. Tell me you want to break up. Slap me across the face. Just do something. Anything”

“I think it would be best if you left now.” It hurt to say it out loud. But it was true.

Looking at him, he looked tired. His heart wasn’t even in it now. He couldn’t even give you the courtesy of pretending to care, as he practically blew up your life. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” it was taking everything in you to look away. And not meet his sad puppylike gaze.

Art silently got up and moved towards the door. “You know I thought you would try and fight it. I thought some part of you would fight to keep this. We meant something, even if we haven’t in a while.”

Bullshit.

“You’re a fucking dick.”

“I did love you.” That was the telling word. Did. Past tense. Like he hadn’t loved you in months. And he had been dragging this out for as long as he could. To spare your feelings. Like you would break the second he left you. And that’s what hurt the most. He didn’t have to admit it out loud. But he chose to get one last dig at you in before leaving.

“Just go already. Leave. Do what you’re good at” Somehow there was no anger in your voice when you spoke. Only withdrawal. The emotion would come back to you once he actually got himself out the door. It’s not even like you were pretending to be strong, to get this over with. You didn’t even know if you cared anymore.

Art looked as though he had more he had to say. More that had been weighing on his mind. Words that threatened to escape. But his silence spoke numbers. Much more than anything he could’ve ever actually mustered up the courage to say.

So he left without another word. Silently packing up what little of his stuff remained in your once shared apartment. Fulfilling your one and only wish. 

And that was it. 

A two-year long relationship ended in less than a half-hour. Without much of a fight, and done in the blink of an eye. 

When he finally managed to get out the door, your facade broke. And you cried for what felt like hours, alone in your room. You wanted him back. You wanted to apologize for not fighting it. You wanted him to apologize for having sex with Tashi. You wanted things to go back to the way they had been at Stanford. When you still had the whole in front of you, and life in your eyes. When you felt immediate joy hearing his voice, and love in his presence.

But it would never be like that again. You doubted you would ever even see him again. Because God knows you’d never volunteer yourself up for a tennis match. So you would just have to accept that it was over. And a love once so special to you was gone.

You thought it would be easy to end things. And you thought it wouldn’t hurt this much. But losing love hurts. So as the tears kept flooding from your eyes, you accepted your fate. And you accepted that that was it.