The second kiss and caressing taught me so much about myself. It wasn’t Kevin’s fault the whole time; it was mine.
Kevin knew that I had a boyfriend. But was that his concern? Definitely not. He had gotten this girl who wouldn’t think twice about her actions before taking them. This time he wasn’t apologetic and neither did I expect that from him. After all, I was the one who initiated it, so who was I to assign blame?
I eventually relocated to the village. As the days and weeks passed, I began to feel less remorseful about what happened. Kevin and I continued to communicate and I didn’t see it as a mistake any longer.
When it came to talking to him, I became very calculative and strategic. I knew when Joe would call, so I could plan when Kevin and I could talk without being suspected. I’d transformed into a perfect playgirl who relished Kevin’s warm and romantic conversations.
Weeks had now become months. Eventually, I was starting to see right through Kevin. He wasn’t as fond of me as I was of him. Our ‘relationship’ was also undefined with zero commitment from his side so who was I to keep him to me as if I owned him.
Time had taught me so much about Kevin and the clear difference between love and infatuation. We were totally different people, in thoughts and beliefs- a clearly undetermined, complacent, and mediocre whom I just couldn’t stand anymore. We were not on the same frequency. His principles and manners were illogical. What did I see in him in the first place?
It was as if a veil had been lifted, but I’d gone too far. How do I end this, and this time, there will be a lot to tell Joe. I needed advice on how to proceed.
But who do I even reach out to? Who do I share this with? What if no one understands me?
Sam was right and everything he said to me began to make sense now. I had abused my little taste of freedom because I was in an environment where none of my friends were present, and those who held me accountable were also absent. I felt free to do whatever I wanted, and while I didn’t expect to be caught off guard in this regard, that’s exactly what happened.
I finally decided to tell Joe but describe it from a third-person perspective. At the very least, I needed to know his reaction to this to know if I could open up to him. It felt better than informing others about my own mess. Keeping a perfect image on the outside was all that mattered to me.
As difficult as this felt, it was much easier to tell him as someone else’s story than to own it. I told him there was this friend who had been in a relationship for about two years and she’s started catching feelings for another guy…you know how this goes.
I went on and on about my ‘ friend’s’ predicament while Joe asked questions to be sure of his opinion. But, I said something that made him suspect that it was me. I was too detailed with the story to the extent that I referred to myself at a point unknowingly. I knew at that point that it was the end of me.