I Miss You: An original short story


“I miss you.” He said, with his eyes squinted and his arms gently holding my elbows. He had drawn me close with his words. Everything he said in the last 45 seconds went in one ear and out of the other, leaving only the last three words to hit my heart and shatter the wall that I had built up against him. It had been eight years since I had last seen him and I had been resenting his existence ever since. My love for him had never faded; I never stopped wondering how he was doing. I always found ways to slide onto his Facebook page to see what he was up to and who he was dating. My love for him was such an awkward love. He irritated every bone in my body yet he could still get me to do anything that he asked me to. I moved away from him slowly, looking him in the eye every second. I had so many questions for him, so many things to say but nothing would come out of my mouth. My thoughts were bouncing off of each and I’m almost certain that my heart skipped a beat. Nothing in the world could have prepared me for what I was feeling in this moment.

“Why? Why…why did you leave?” That’s all I could get out? After all these years, that was the only thing I could say? There was a long pause; a silence reflective of the eight years that we had been apart. “Why?! You said you loved me! I believed you! I trusted you!” At this point my voice was raised and I was backing further and further away from him with every word. The look in his eyes went from hopeful to sorrow. He was sad that I was hurt and I was upset that I was showing it. I was supposed to be over him. I had moved on with my life. I had a fiancé that loved me and a new home waiting for us to begin our new family.

As tears began to fall down my face, Sean did what he knew best; He came over and held me in his arms. He kissed my forehead and told me that he was sorry. He told me that he loved me and that he had never stopped loving me. He told me that he was immature and didn’t know how to handle the situation. Even though these excuses didn’t compare to the pain and shame that I had experienced for the past 8 years, they were soothing me. He knew me so well and even after so many years, he knew how to pull me back in. His soft voice carried so much sincerity that even as my mind was telling me to back away and go home; my heart was confused. I love my fiancé; he is the perfect man for me. He stepped up to be a father figure when Sean left me with a newborn baby in the hospital room. Now, my not so little boy, Christopher, is 8 years old and in love with his future step father. The emotion from my thoughts prompted an internal response from my conscience.

“Yolanda, you love him. He loves you too. He just had an immature moment, he’s better now. He’s grown, give him a chance.”

A chance at what? What moment? 8 years is more than a moment, it’s almost a decade. In 8 years we’ve had two presidential terms.  In 8 years, I’d gotten a bachelors AND a master’s degree. I have fallen in love with an amazing man and  grown to get to know myself in a new way. In 8 years, I went through more things that most people have experienced their entire lives. I wasn’t going to let my emotions trick me that easily. I wasn’t going to go back to a man just because he knew how to sweet talk me and look me in my eyes.

“Yolanda. Give me another chance. I’ve  never been more satisfied than when we were together. No woman could ever compare to you. Eventually I just stopped looking for other woman and I started looking for you. I tried contacting your friends but they wouldn’t talk to me.”

He tried contacting my friends? What friends? I started to think about who he could have possibly contacted that didn’t inform me that he was trying to reach them.

“We could still be together,” he continued, “I want to get to know my son. I think about him all the time, don’t you think he deserves a chance at a real family?”
Mentioning our son was the wrong thing to do. It instantly reminded me of how excited he was throughout the pregnancy, the plans that we made to raise our family together. I still remember how it felt when Christopher was born. I was holding him in my arms, so proud of what we had created. Sean said that he was going to the restroom and never came back. I thought about the days that I went without sleep because I had to stay awake with Christopher and then go to work in the morning. The days when I would cry myself to sleep because I was alone with a newborn baby. I thought about being abandoned by yet another man. No. I was not going back to him. I couldn’t.

“Christopher already has a chance at a real family. Donovan is an amazing man and he has been an amazing father figure for Chris. He doesn’t need you, and neither do I.” With that, I turned and walked away from him as fast as I could. I left wiping the tears from my face with the intention of never seeing nor talking to Sean ever again.

My phone rang, it was Sean, I pressed ignore and kept walking to my car. I climbed into my truck and locked the door. Instantly tears began to stream down my face uncontrollably. I couldn’t believe that I had come to meet him, but what was worse was that I still loved him. Everything in me wanted to go back and let Sean hold me tight; everything in me wanted a future with him, a future like the one we planned, but I couldn’t erase all of the pain that he caused me. My phone rang again, I looked down with the intention of answering and cursing Sean out but it was my fiancé. I couldn’t answer the p hone in this state or he’d know that I was crying. I didn’t tell Donovan that I was coming to meet Sean. How could I tell the man that I’m engaged to that I was going to meet the father of my son? The father that had abandoned me in the hospital with our newborn son, the one that I hadn’t heard from in eight years! The one that I was still madly in love with. My phone stopped ringing and within seconds, Donovan was calling again. A knock at my window startled me and I looked up to see Sean standing at the window.
“Open the door let me talk to you.” He said; loud enough for me to hear him through the glass but gentle enough to sound pathetic. I stared him in the eyes, I wondered who he had become, I wondered what kind of man he had grown to be. As Donovan called me a third time, my curiosity got the best of me and I pressed the button to unlock the doors.

Sean climbed in, shut the door, took my phone and grabbed my face forcing me to engage in a long passionate kiss. As wrong as I was, I couldn’t break away from him. My mind was going back and forth, that voice inside was screaming “NO” but my body was already gone. As my phone continued to buzz, I got lost in the familiar passion that I had been longing for, for the past 8 years.

To be continued….


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Meet the Creator

Ifie Natasha

Ifie Natasha is a writer, artreprenuer and soul care enthusiast with a passion for telling stories, building communities and exploring creativity.

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