“Ok,” I said nonchalantly.
“What?” She said exasperated hoping I would fight for my girl or either beg her to stay my gal. “You are not going to give me shit?”
“No,” I said. “I think ‘just friends’ is a good idea. It is not like we get to see each other anymore anyway.”
“Okay,” She said sounding sort of confused and bewildered. “I will talk to you later.”
If big momma wanted a ticket to date other men, then she had my blessing and a first class seat on that train ride. I have grown increasingly tired of our on-again, off-again relationship. I just wasn’t getting much out of it.
The phone rang once more just after I had hung up. I picked it up.
“Hello?” I asked.
“You sure you’re not mad at me?” Carolyn asked.
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“People are supposed to fight and stuff when they break up.”
“I am tired of fighting and being mad and shit,” I replied.
“Ok,” She said sounding even more bewildered as we got off the phone once again.
Years ago I would have drank myself into a stupor over this. My divorce left me a homeless drunkard I was so devastated. You know what I did? I ate a leftover piece of pizza, popped open a coke, and sat down to write this immediately feeling better.
It was good while it lasted. I and Carolyn had some wonderful times together, but the spark in our relationship had long since faded and died. I really do wish her the best and hopefully she will find some guy who has much less “issues” as she calls them than me. Che sara, sara. What will be, will be as the Italians say.