Girl In The Green Dress Pt 3.

Finally free...

Updated: 3rd Dec, 2022

—

I looked up at the ceiling.

‍

Hm. I thought to myself, as I begun to notice a few cracks.

Had they always been there? I wondered.

‍

I guess I’d always been on the move. Too busy to notice small things like that.

But not anymore. 

‍

I sat for a moment in my own feelings.

‍

I breathed in.

‍

Nothing.

‍

I knew this feeling.

‍

Sadness. Loneliness. Heartbreak.

‍

I begun to notice other things around the room.

‍

The Paris 1889 painting that hung adjacent to the wardrobe was askew.

‍

There were nails in the wall from where I used to have a large painting of a happy couple above my bed.

‍

I grumbled. 

‍

For goodness sake. I signed out loud.

‍

I'd always hated this feeling. 

‍

It was just so… empty. 

‍

So… alone.

‍

I had to get past this. I had so much work do.

‍

*buzz* *buzz*

‍

My phone rang.

‍

I rolled my eyes before reading the caller ID. 

‍

Luckily it was just my best friend.

‍

‘Hey!’ I said, putting on a fake smile.

‍

‘Hey! I’m just on my way back. Fancy coming over? We can watch some movies and get some food’ said the soft voice on the other side of the phone.

‍

Movies. Yes. That was just what I needed. 

‍

I breathed a sigh of relief. 

‍

‘Yes, that sounds lovely. Just what I need actually’ I said.

‍

‘Are you ok?’ My best friend encouraged.

‍

‘Yes, of course! Always’ I tried to say convincingly.

‍

‘Ok, well you can fill me in when you come over. I won’t be long now’ she said.

‍

She knew something was off. She always knew me so well.

‍

‘Ok’ I muttered. 

‍

We say goodbye and hung up. 

‍

This is just what I need. I thought to myself.

‍

I crashed back down against the pillows and lay there for a minute, taking it all in again.

‍

I pulled out my laptop and began writing.

‍

Writing.

‍

The very thing that always soothed my soul. My escape. My only outlet.

‍

Peace.

‍

Finally. I thought as I began to let it all out.

‍

30 minutes had passed and I was still typing frantically. 

‍

I felt better. I had released all the emotions I needed to.

‍

But I still felt… empty. 

‍

I thought about that smile of his. The one which made my heart stop.

‍

No. I said strictly.

‍

I had to stay strong this time. It was for the best. 

‍

I sighed. For the twelfth time that morning. 

‍

I needed to hate him to love me.

‍

I lay there a further 30 minutes typing in between sighing and digging up old memories until I finally gave up on feeling down.

‍

I decided to open up WhatsApp. I looked at the unread notifications from him.

‍

I didn’t open them. I knew what they was. Another thing I’d just end up telling him I was proud of.

‍

Instead, I muted him. No more notifications to intrude on my day now.

‍

It was time to get over him.

‍

The sun peaked through a small gap in the curtains.

‍

Alas.

‍

I locked my phone and sat up.

‍

I attempted to lift myself out of the bed but failed miserably.

‍

I winced for a moment before jumping back into the warm bedsheets.

‍

I sighed.

‍

Nope. I said, as my head hit my pillow once again. 

I’m not getting out of this bed yet.

‍

The comfort of my Spotify breakup playlist and warm bedsheets from the night before would help me self soothe.

‍

So I lay there for the remainder of the morning with a pile of tissues, finally acknowledging the fact we would never be together. 

‍

One of us felt stronger than the other, and that was always a dangerous game. So instead, I tapped out. 

‍

I longed the days the roles were reversed.

‍

The sweet summer air, the longing behind his eyes, the excuses he'd make in any attempt to see me.

‍

You broke my heart. You didn’t mean to, but you did.

‍

And for that I had to let you go.

‍

Goodbye darling. I’ll miss you.

‍

I closed my eyes, and fell asleep, finally shutting the world out and putting my heart to rest. 

‍

——

‍

I woke up to his song playing.

‍

Was this fate testing me?

‍

I rolled my eyes as I reached for my phone.

‍

One chord struck me deep as the lyrics played on my mind.

‍

Tears flew down my face.

‍

For Goodness sake Catalina. I yelled, wiping the tears away.

‍

It’s not even a sad song. ‘I took her out, it was a Friday night…’ the words repeated. 

‍

He had taken me out on a Friday night too.

‍

‘My friends say I should act my age. What’s my age again? What’s my age again?’.

‍

I paused the music and lay there, once again sad, broken and alone.

‍

I just had to get out of this mess. 

‍

I sat up, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror opposite my bed.

‍

Goodness. I thought. 

‍

I laughed.

‍

I laughed so hard I cried. 

‍

Then I laughed at myself crying.

‍

And the cycle just repeated.

‍

That was about the time I realised I was really in too deep.

‍

I had the end this mad hysteria.

‍

I got up and began to get ready.

‍

I started with my usual routine; washed my face, brushed my teeth, then my hair, walked over to the fridge and made a start on breakfast.

‍

I walked over to the sofa with my granola and yogurt. 

‍

I stared through the window, humming What’s My Age Again?

That was until I finally became conscious of the song that was playing on my mind and immediately stopped.

‍

You know what would be a great idea? I thought to myself.

‍

Yoga.

‍

Before I could even make a start on eating my breakfast, I sprung up and skipped over to the corner of the living room.

‍

I put on some peaceful music and began stretching.

‍

10 minutes later, the revived and zen version of me slowly walked herself over to the sofa and sat down elegantly. 

‍

She sat there eating her fruity granola and smiling down at the world. 

‍

She opened up a new playlist and made peace with where she was at in life.

‍

She begun to glow again - just a little bit - but it was an improvement from her earlier self from that morning.

‍

This new and excited version of Catalina was about to kick ass. 

I'm coming world. Be ready. She thought to herself, a flicker of a smile spread across her face for just a moment.

Because she finally knew what she had to do.

‍