“I’m back! Do you have time to meet this week?” That’s exactly what I texted Mr. G as soon as I got back to New York from Boston. Well, not immediately. When I got off the bus I was greeted with pounding rain, and I refused to damage my phone by whipping it out during a torrential downpour. I have priorities, after all! Besides, I wanted to show Mr. G that even though I felt he was “The One,” I still had a busy social life. I was at nobody’s beck and call!
Well chicas, neither was Mr. G. After sending my message, I waited for his reply and got nothing. A day went by. Two days. Three. And still nada! I checked my phone repeatedly; secretly hoping a raindrop had fallen on the screen. I even slid off the back cover and took out the battery to investigate. The little white sticker was still white, which means his disregard had nothing to do with a messed up cell and more to do with Mr. G’s messed up self.
That was all I needed to back off. I was tired of the work, tired of initiating contact and most of everything else. That entire week it continued to rain. And the more it poured the more I cried. I was releasing the disappointment and sadness I had wrapped in optimism and hope. Rain washes all things away, and it was time for a Mr. G cleansing.
Originally published on Latina Magazine.