MEMORY: What My Heart Tells Me So

I ended the call just in time to let the storm get out of my chest. I buried my face in the pillow I was clutching as I curled on top of the bed. It was hard to breathe that way but it was the only way to keep the noise down—I didn’t want anyone in the house to hear that I was having a breakdown for reasons still unclear to me.

I know why she did that and yet…

Why am I so upset?

Why am I making a big deal out of this?

I was blowing my nose with the last of my tissue paper when my phone rang again. I only stared at it as it rang for a few more times and waited until it finally fell silent. I knew it was Yana, but I didn’t know what to say to her so I left it at that.

I figured I should send her a text at least.

‘I think I need to rest for a bit. Is it okay if we talk later?’ I said.

Yana’s the type who wants to resolve things as quickly as possible, so I was expecting she would get mad at me for dragging this for too long.