Long-Distance Calls

23

*beware* cursing all over the fucking chapter.

"Alright. Alright." I sighed. "How are you feeling?"

"How do you think I'm feeling?" Evelyn boasted, "he fucking broke up with me. I didn't see that coming."

I had just woke up. I was still in bed, but I called her anyway. On the phone. I never heard her this serious before. It was kind of scary. "Can you tell me exactly what happened?"

"I told you exactly what happened," her voice cracked, "he broke up with me."

I honestly did not know how to feel. I guess I was happy that the ghost of this Sean fellow wasn't haunting our relationship anymore, but at the same time, I hated to see her like that.

She possibly hadn't even slept. She possibly had been up all night crying. And that made me want to cry myself.

Never had I ever experienced such feelings.

"Yeah, that I understood," I said slowly, "but can you tell me what he said to you? How he broke up with you?"

She started laughing wryly in despair. "Oh, that's just the best part of it."

"Alright," I said, slowly once again, "try to focus. Calm down and tell me."

I heard her taking a deep distorted breath. "You see, you don't know Sean. You never even heard him before, right? Well, he's always been the perfect type of boy. He always acted like Prince Charming..." she chuckled, "I know right? Well, he never ever showed one defect. Always so smart, so intelligent and cultured. Always so perfect that he looked unreal. Until lately... lately he started to show a different side. He started, wearing dark... acting dark. I took a glance at his phone, and his wallpaper was a knife. That seemed rather unlikely... but I thought... you know... he's 16... maybe he's just changing character... that's normal... but I never thought..." her voice cracked again, as she cried again.

I felt really bad. Almost as if I had done that to her. I wanted to be there to hug her, or just put a hand on her shoulders... let her know that she wasn't alone. But I couldn't do that from 404 miles away. All I had was my voice, and I had never been good at talking to other people.

"Alright," I mumbled, "just... yeah... just cry it out. You'll feel better... I guess..."

"He said something so stupid..." she snorted, "I don't want to believe it."

"What?" I asked, "what did he say?"

"With his usual... fucking stupid... philosophical way..." she scolded, "he started talking in metaphors... he said that he had a little statue... a figurine... on his shelf... and it was so beautiful and perfect, he wanted to have it there forever... but then... while he was redecorating, it fell... and it broke. And as he picked it up, and he looked at it. He felt sorry for such perfection to just break so easily. He tried to piece it back together... and he did. He put the pieces back together and put the statue back on the shelf. But when he looked at it now... he realized it just wasn't as beautiful as before. All the perfection got lost... and so did his love for it."

I leaned back on the bed and rested my head on the pillow, as she kept crying in my ears. I waited a few moments before talking. "Let me tell you what I think."

"Okay..." she murmured.

I sighed. "I think he's a dumbass... and a coward. He's a coward because he wasn't able to tell you what he felt directly. He had to go through that metaphor. And he's a dumbass because he thinks that his metaphor justifies what he did. And, most importantly, he thinks that he's a normal person for thinking like that. Well, let me tell you something... how long have you been with this guy?"