THIRTY - SEVEN ::

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She forced me out the door. I barely had time to put on my shoes before I was met with loud slam of the wooden door.

Perhaps I had taken things too early, too far, too intimate- I cannot be sure, and I cannot tell.

I remember showing up to training the next day, dribbling the ball mindlessly, playing football tennis on the training ground, and trying my luck at penalty training against Emi, David and Pete. I probably wasn't too focused, because I hadn't knocked in too many from the spot. Pete was the only one to tap me on the shoulder, and ask what's wrong. He was always the caring one; it's like having another uncle. I proceeded to tell him nothing was wrong, but I figured that he saw through my lies, and nodded to give me some personal space- which, I was grateful for.

Later that night, I returned home. To my own home. I binged The Crown on Netflix, and ended up falling asleep on the couch.

I checked my phone first thing in the morning.

It's been two days.

She hasn't texted me nor has she phoned me once. No matter how angry she was, she's never not checked up on my conditions and well-being.

I wanted to phone her, but would that be too awkward?

Do I have to send her an e-mail? Do I have to send her a postcard?

I decided to send her a text.

"I'm leaving to Shanghai next week with the team."

DELETE.

I took a step back. I erased the text, and debated some more. By the time I had debated on what to do, I had forgotten what I wanted to do.

My mind was so lost in a labyrinth, and she's got me stuck here. Just as she did three years ago. I blame myself for all of the wrongs I've done, and I can do no right to fix it.

The flower vase, the yelling, the screaming, the violence- what prompted me? I lied on the ground and stared at the ceiling. What is this called? What am I doing?

She had always told me to reflect on myself.

That's what I'm doing, love.

That's what I'm doing now, love.

That's what it is.

Self-reflecting.

I decided to send her a text.

"Hi. It's Aaron. I'm leaving for Shanghai next week. I'm sorry for what happened yesterday, and I hope I can still make it up to you. Just know that I never mean to hurt you. I love you."

SE--

No. Wait. I can't say that. Can I?

Yes I can.

SEND.

MESSAGE SENT.

//

x

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