Hannah Bentley
No one cheated. No one lied. We were just growing apart from each other, so I knew what had to be done.
I wanted him to say no, that we could work it out. I wanted any sign or promise of hope. But we both knew that the hope would be false, the promise empty. After three years of friendship and a two-year relationship, it was time to say goodbye. We stood on the street crying, staring at each other in disbelief that this was happening.
The aftermath was horrific – as is the case with most break-ups. I walked different routes home to avoid bumping into him and had a heart attack every time I saw someone who slightly resembled him. Even my grades took a hit.
I did the classic breakup ritual of burning his things and blocking him, partly to piss him off, but mostly to stop myself from sending messages I’d regret.
I tried everything to forget about him.
I spent the summer after A-Levels traveling around Europe. I splurged every penny of my hard-earned savings on tacky souvenirs, gelato, and cheap wine. I roamed around foreign seaside towns, confident that I wouldn’t stumble across him. I felt like I could finally breathe, like I was moving on.
When I arrived back home, I was sunburnt and refreshed. There were a few weeks left of summer before everyone went to university and my friends would be scattered across the country. That meant it was festival time.
“I’d be spending this festival with my ex-boyfriend”
My friends and I dumped our bags on the grass, pleased with our camping spot. I headed to the water station and stood in line waiting to fill my bottle up. Beads of sweat dripped from my forehead and my cheeks were red from the heat. I looked around, excited to make the most of the last bit of summer. That was when I saw him.
“Hey Hannah.”
His camping plans had fallen through and him and his friends were trying to find a spot to set up their tents. The campsite was getting full, and I knew there was space near me, so I pointed him in the direction of my friends. It seemed I’d be spending this festival with my ex-boyfriend.
“I was worried I was enjoying his company a little too much”
On the third day, everyone was tired. Our friends had been getting along well, except I was worried I was enjoying his company a little too much. By 2am everyone was ready to call it a night, but I was still pretty wired. They unrolled their sleeping bags making it clear no one was willing to stay up with me.
Except him. “Why don’t we go for a walk?” he offered.
We climbed to the top of the hill overlooking the festival. The music and crowds were a distant murmur and the lights twinkled below us. We talked non-stop for over an hour. I asked about his mum, and I told him about mine. I explained my gap year plans and he said he’d applied to do law.
It was so strange. He was exactly the same, but somehow different. Suddenly I couldn’t make sense of why we broke up.
“I had spent so long convincing myself I hated him”
It started to get cold, and I noticed I’d moved closer to him. Our legs were touching.
I couldn’t believe how badly I wanted him to put his arm round me.
I had spent so long convincing myself I hated him to make the split more bearable, yet here I was, one year on looking into his eyes, daring myself to kiss him.
The festival came to an end. Everyone had had a great time, but we were eager to get home to shower and sleep off our hangovers. I was packing up my tent when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“I’m heading off.”
I smiled, gave him a quick hug, and watched him walk away.
Once he was out of sight I burst into tears. An intense desperation came over me. I knew that couldn’t be the last time I saw him. What I felt was real.
Or was it realistically just the effect of summer?
Did he feel the same way or was it just me? I needed to find out.
Although, did I really want to start things up between us again? What about all the pain of the breakup and all the reasons why the relationship didn’t work?
On the train home Phoebe Bridgers blared through my earphones whilst I stared out the window, watching the houses and fields fly past.
“Fuck it,” I thought. “I’m going to call him”.
We’ve now been dating for over four years.
Featured image courtesy of Caleb Ekeroth on Unsplash. Image license can be found here. No changes were made to this image.
