There’s nothing worse than a pregnancy scare. Ok I lied there is something worse. Having a pregnancy scare and your boyfriend not talking or seeing you through the whole thing, that’s worse. The only time you do hear from him is when he asks if you’ve gotten your period. So imagine that and placing it in New York City.
There’s something amazing about the first relationship that you have in Manhattan. Every date and walk down the street feels as though it should be in a movie. As Carrie Bradshaw would say you have an intense love affair with the island, but you will always have something on the side so you don’t go insane.
When said relationship ends the city turns into a battleground and it doesn’t feel so massive anymore. I haven’t been to Brooklyn since the break up. I can’t chance seeing him on the street and having small talk, when in the back of my mind I’ll remember that he left when it mattered most.
So it’s been a few months since that all went down and my phone lit up today. He needed to see me apparently. Oh wait let me finish reading the message. Sorry he doesn’t need to see me, he needs a book that I still have. We make a coffee date.
I show up on time and usually I don’t get upset if someone is five minutes late.
Ten minutes late.
Thirty minutes late? Is he standing me up?
After forty-five minutes he walks in and sits down at my table.
“The trains were busy,” he says without taking his jacket off. I’ve already finished my coffee, it was cold by the time I threw out the cup.
“Yea,” I say as I hand him the book.
“Its not like I needed you to give me everything back. We’re still friends,” he says as he takes it. Funny, he took everything from me, it finally ended when I handed him the book.
“Well I’ve got to go,” I say as I stand up and put my jacket on. I have to keep smiling or I’ll cry.
“Have coffee,” he says.
“No, I’ve got to go,” I walk past him out the door and embrace Manhattan once more as the only abusive relationship in my life.