The first alarm had continued to blare as I slowly began to gain consciousness. It was the first of the five alarms that were set for any typical day in the event that the sound would evolve into a nightmare featuring my mother yelling the same obnoxious indecipherable word on repeat. The sound of the alarm I heard as I started to wake, I realized, was from my phone and not the insufferable dream playing in my head. I combine the two all too often. Before I could fully open my eyes, I was jolted awake from the haze I was in when my dog unknowingly pounced on my head. It was potty time.

 

I groggily put on the closest items I could find that resembled articles of clothing and made my way down the hall. I stumbled around the corner that lead to the living room eventually navigating my way to the front door. I wish I would wake up with the same enthusiasm as my little pooch does on a daily basis between the hours of four and five in the morning. Then again, my bladder has always been on the larger size scale where my nighttime slumber remains undisturbed.

 

Together, my little pooch and I made our way down the stairs from the second story in which my apartment was located to handle his business before making our way back up.

 

I decided to lay down for a moment once returning to my room as I was up much earlier than I needed to be for work that day. The bed was romantically calling my name, pulling me closer with its undone, messily thrown comforter revealing its naked sheets underneath. As I began to rest my head upon the inviting, fluffy pillows, I reached for my phone as a distraction to remain awake for the few moments of rest I wanted to take advantage of.

 

There it was. I had a message on one of the popular social media platforms. One of those ones where hashtags and “@” symbols are used more than actual words to communicate. It was not any message. It was from the love of my life. We hadn’t spoke in ages. The last time that there was a form of communication between us was when we had discussed the unwanted child he was expecting with a girl he had no feelings for. A girl that he began talking to in his lonely state of being in the military. Away from his friends, his family, and me. I hated him. I hated him for what he did to us. We were once perfect. The man I had wanted to father my children one day I now knew for sure never would.

 

My heart dropped into the depths of my stomach. How could he try to talk to me when he has a child due any day now? It made me queasy with emotion. As I stared at the unread message awaiting me for what seemed like an eternity, I finally decided to open it. It was not his first attempt at contacting me, there was limited resourced where he was currently stationed. He was wishing me well and hoping for the best, as any ex decides to do from time to time to weasel their way back into your life.

 

I knew it was over, it had been for a while. This man had figuratively slapped me in the face too many times to count. This was the last time. I had endured the final chapter of the metaphorical abuse inflicted upon me, or it would be nice to say that I did. I would love for this to be the end of my story, but I am not as strong as I wish I could be.

 

I messaged him back. I wanted to give him a slap in the face as hard as I could. I mentioned how great I was in the new city I had recently moved to. How amazing my new job was when in reality I was beginning to hate it. But I also wished him well. I told him how I knew he would make an amazing father because I once envisioned him that way with my children. I hit send before I could stop myself. Sure, it was probably a message better left unsent. I don’t have the best reason for hitting that little blue button located at the bottom of my screen. I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to know how I had felt. And so I did. I did so in the nicest way that I knew how.

 

I know it doesn’t matter one way or another. He did what he did and that was that. Silence truly can be golden. At the same time, I said what I needed to say. Once that stupid text bubble appeared at the right of my screen with the letter to the man I once loved containing the words I wanted to say, I had an overwhelming sense of calmness. The bitterness of the situation left me with a sweet taste in my mouth. I wasn’t mean or vile with my words and I honestly did wish him well. I wish everybody to have a life that they enjoy living. In that very moment, I was ready to live mine without worrying about him. He was not the love of my life. I was giddy with the fact that one day, there would be someone who was. I smiled as a closed my eyes returning to a state of sweet slumber before the second alarm would go off to disturb my now peaceful sleep.