I walk into my living room and make my way slowly towards the bar. I fix myself a glass of Jack Daniel’s on the rocks. I sit down in the chair as I recall the event that happened at the restaurant. She broke up with me. I was shocked when the words came out of her mouth. She did not show any sign of not been happy with me. Yes, we fight like every couple but I thought we had a shot. She broke up with me and yet I did not feel any iota of disappointment. This is my 3rd failed relationship in the space of 3 years.
The women that have broken up with me in the past 3 years have complained about the same thing. I was not open enough and I was not letting my emotions show forth and I act like I am doing them a favour. Maybe they are right that I was not giving my best in the relationship. I might not be able to say the words they want to hear but they just have to realize that I am an onion at the moment and you have to peel me layer by layer before getting to the centre. I need time. I need time especially after what happened.
They all said I have not moved on. They all said I have not let go of the first woman I ever loved. They believed I was holding on and yes, they might have a point. If only they knew my secret. I told them all about the part where I lost her to a car accident. The part of me feeling responsible for her death is the part I leave out. How do I explain to them that I feel responsible for the accident?
I still remember like yesterday, five years ago when all we could talk about was our future. The number of kids we want to have, the kind of life we want to live and how happy a family we hoped to be. I threw all that away when I felt insecure about her married boss paying her a lot of attention. The gift he gave her on her birthday dwarfed mine and the jealousy just increased and I accused her of having an affair with him. She explained things that there was nothing happening and I did not even listen to her.
She came over that fateful night, she was about 45 minutes late. I had prepared dinner hoping we will talk over dinner and have make up sex. She apologized for coming late and that she had been stuck in a meeting with her boss. On hearing that, I just flared up, saying all sorts to her. She kept quiet through my rage and it just annoyed me more. She tried speaking when I stopped, I cut her off telling her it was over between us. I watched her as she broke down in tears and tried explaining herself to me. I did not listen and instead I walked her out of my house. She was trying to beg me but it all fell on deaf ears. I pushed her out of the house when she refused to leave.
My phone rang about two hours later, it was her. Why is she still calling? I picked up the call to ask her to stop calling. I heard a man’s voice on the line and he asked me to come to the hospital which he described to me. She been involved in an accident and he called me because my number was the last number dialed on her phone. I got to the hospital and I was taken straight to the morgue. She had died instantly from the impact of the collision with a stationary truck. I fell to my knees and tears just rolled out of my eyes. The doctor asked me if I was aware she was pregnant. Pregnant? I wailed like a baby. She was carrying a baby. A 3 weeks old baby. I had killed mother and child. I had driven both of them out of my house to their death all because I could not listen to her. My jealousy got the best of me.
The guilt still lives with me. How do I move on from that? The thought of it all sickens me and it weighs me down so bad that I just want to scream out to the world to help me but I cannot. I stand up from the chair and walk to the medicine cabinet in my room with my glass of drink still in my hand. Why am I still living ? I can no longer cope with this guilt. It is eating me alive. I get my sleeping pills from the cabinet. I am tired of living with this guilt. It ends tonight.
To be Continued ??