He and I were in a space.

The love was there, but in that moment, the communication wasn’t. We kept crossing signals and misinterpreting the messages until our individual frustrations had reached their boiling points. He regained control of his agitation, but I did not…

I’m typically great with words and expressing my feelings, but the night’s whirlwind of confusion managed to snatch my ability to articulate much of anything clearly. He left and this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, I thought. My mind was racing, partially due to the adrenaline of a misunderstanding left on a cliffhanger and partially because it was late and I was exhausted.

He called me once he got in the car and I heard nothing. My words spilled over, but the rawness of my emotion overrode his ability to comprehend the meaning. There was no depth to his analysis of my words; he only knew I was mad.

I don’t remember our last words, probably because I’d hung up in a rush. Maintaining composure and control is important to me and even in the midst of me losing it, I clung to the only control I had in the moment—hanging up in a sea of frustration.

I felt my heartbeat telling me I’d had enough. My thoughts were a tug-of-war between “fall back and give him the silent treatment” and “text him everything you couldn’t say”. I did both.

“ I regret opening myself up to you again…”

That’s how the text began. 3 paragraphs later, after venting, pointing out his flawed approach to our misunderstanding and writing him off, I had nothing else to say. I blocked his number and went to sleep.

ONE WEEK LATER

My pride had relaxed. My conscience and sound judgment woke up from a week-long slumber; challenging me to self-reflect. We were both wrong, but the reality was that ultimately, I could only be responsible for me. What I’d said, I felt, but my approach was dismissive, abrasive and inconsiderate. I know the weight and power my words have, and I also knew I owed him an apology.

My fingers scrolled the contact list until I reached his name, and I hesitated. In my mind, I thought, He probably won’t answer! You blocked him, remember? Before I could talk myself out of it, I called. A few rings…and to my surprise, he answered.

At first, I was met with sarcasm. I knew these were the echoes of the protective walls built up to stop my sharp tongue from hurting him again. I kept my words simple, sincere and short as I offered my apology. No words draped in long, drawn out narratives attempting to justify why I wasn’t really sorry to begin with. No blame shifting. Just an apology.

He sat in silence for a few moments after I’d finished speaking. I didn’t try to fill the air with more words. Instead, I waited. When he finally spoke, he said “I heard everything you said and I forgive you. I forgave you right after it all happened. I tried to call and text you right after you sent the long text, but you had already blocked me. I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t think you were capable of acting the way you did and it really threw me off. It’s gonna take me a while to move past it. Why was it so easy to cut me off without a second thought?”

I explained how my past experiences in relationships put me on edge when . I told him that in the moment, I felt dismissing him was the only way for me to regain control of the situation, although it really only highlighted an area of my heart that still needed to be healed.

We talked through as much as we could, the remaining pieces would need to be put together another day. Before getting off the phone, I told him, “Even though we haven’t been seeing eye-to-eye lately, I still love you. That never changed.”

“I love you too, B”, he said. “But how is discarding someone without considering how they’ll be affected by you leaving showing love?” I had no answer. I didn’t force one. He said again, “B, I really do love you, please think about what I asked you.”

I responded, “I know and I will. For right now, all I can say is that I have blind spots in some areas, and love is what holds me accountable. Because once you know better, you do better.”