𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐧𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

1:5

The days that followed were mundane and emotionally draining. Gracie would drag me out of my bed in the mornings to go to class, drive me to the campus, and then drive me straight back home. We followed the same schedule daily and I was beginning to get acclimated to it. She still had her job of working in a clothing store which left me alone in our flat for a few hours in the evenings.

When I was by myself I obviously tried to keep myself distracted, but the deafening silence made it difficult to do so. Noel had not called, left me any text messages, or voicemails since that Friday night. A part of me was missing the sound of his gentle voice and his infectious laughter. The once clear image I had in my head of him was beginning to fade. Whether I wanted to admit it to myself or not: I missed him.

I was standing in my bedroom, staring at the piles of clothes in the corner, the misplaced textbooks and journals lying on the floor, and the randomly scattered shoes that I would throw off whenever I got home. My new task at hand was cleaning my room so that it would hopefully give me a clearer train of thought.

Two glasses of white wine and a chocolate bar later, I was making progress. My floor was now free of clutter, closet organized, and I was working on putting away my rather thick textbooks. I decided that I no longer needed a couple of them out, so I began shoving them underneath my bed. I knelt down and picked up my bed skirt, revealing several plastic storage bins, each with a thin layer of dust caked on top. I groaned and slid them out from under the bed, now realizing that I should probably clean them first and then store the books away.

Before I stood up to grab some dusters, something caught my eye through one of the clear plastic bins. An image that was practically ingrained in my head at this point. I snapped the top off of the bin and reached for it, holding it in my trembling hands: The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars. It was the original copy that Jake had gifted me and I consciously hid away. I ran my fingertips over the album's cover, as my head began to spin. It was like Bowie was trying to tell me something, almost as if he stood as a symbol in my life when something significant was happening or about to happen.

I stared at it for a solid five minutes until I decided to spin it for the first time in ages. I opened my record player and placed the record on the turntable, making sure to turn the volume up before putting the needle straight on the second song. I closed my eyes, allowing the various memories to come flooding back to me as I listened to Bowie's voice.

"All I have is my love of love, and love is not loving..."

I heard my phone chime during the song and knew someone was calling me. I quickly took the needle off of the record, making an accidental scratching noise as I did so. I climbed over my bed to reach for my phone. It was Noel. Without even giving a second thought to it, my thumb promptly pressed the green answer button.

"Noel. Hi."

"Emma," he spoke as if he was surprised that I answered his call. Even I was surprised at myself.

I wasn't sure what I should say next, he was the one who had called me in the first place. The wine was impairing my rational thinking and I snapped back into reality for a few moments. "Why are you calling?"

"I, uh, wanted to see how you were doing. And also to say I'm sorry."

I stayed quiet. It was hard for me to completely process what was happening. Noel was apologizing to me finally, sure, but were the two words "I'm sorry" enough to make up for all my tears and overthinking he caused? No; at least I didn't think so. He was entirely oblivious to what he had put me through.

"I'm so sorry, Emma, for what I've set off between us and any wrong impression you must've got. Amelia's an old friend, I ran into her at the party. That's all. I feel like a complete idiot knowing that it rubbed you the wrong way."

"That's because you are one," I blurted out. I wanted to restart the conversation and start over so I could come across unconcerned and unfazed. I started to question why I was even acting so possessive over him. Regardless of the fact that we would say 'I love you,' we had only been together for a couple of months, with nothing declared official. My mind's eye replayed the way we would look at each other and the spark when we would touch each other. It had completely gone without saying, we knew we were devoted to each other. But the way that they looked together sent any confidence I ever had in myself down the drain. My head was spinning, playing a kind of ping pong of excuses with itself.

"I know. And I'm sorry," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "You believe me about Amelia, don't you?"

"Do I look stupid to you?" The words escaped from my lips and I was certain that the alcohol was winding down my train of thought. I wanted to believe him, but I was still slightly annoyed. I was only making things worse by letting my insecurities talk for me.

He sighed and hesitated before speaking. "Look, I took her out - once. It was a long, long time ago. Long before I ever met you. Or my previous girlfriend. It didn't go anywhere. It's been-"

I laughed bitterly. "I honestly don't care about your relationship with her. I just wish you hadn't invited me to watch you put on the show."

The line fell silent and I thought of hanging up the phone all together at that point. I was beginning to think picking up the phone was a huge mistake.

"Can you let me know how you're doing?"

"I'm okay. I'll live - it's not like this is the first time something like this has happened to me before."

"Emma, please accept my apology from the bottom of my heart. It's not what you think and I'm not lying about it. I'm not seeing her. I swear I'm not." There was a pause and then his voice noticeably softened. "I'm not seeing anyone but you. And you mean more to me than you'll ever know."

"If it helps you to sleep at night, I accept your apology." I replied in a monotonous voice. "Anything else?"

He stuttered a bit before replying. "Guess not."

"Bye Noel."

"Bye."

The line cut off as I hung up almost immediately after his goodbye. My heart sank. I'd blown it. I clenched my fist and threw my phone across the room, landing in a soft thud on the carpet. I brought my knees to my chest, hugging them and then putting my head in my hands. Needless to say, I was angry with myself for allowing history to repeat itself in my love life. I couldn't blame anyone but myself for that.