“I will probably come back at some point. We always do, don’t we?” I wrote.
“Always,” she responded.
“Maybe I am a little bit in love with you,” I typed. Read the message over and over again, in a span of a minute. Then I deleted it. It wasn’t true. Vulnerable? Yes. Needy? For sure. Infatuated? Definitely. But, in love? No. I wasn’t in love with M. So I let her have the last word in that Whatsapp conversation.
Saturday is my favorite day of the week. I feel in control. It’s my fucking day; Eduardo time. Yet, the whole M situation was, once more, getting out of hand. Control, slipping through my fingers. In my day? No, sir! So I had to pull the plug and let her go. Again. Through Whatsapp. Again. Is it just me, or my fucking life is an endless circle of repeating events?