So Wrong

We still hadn’t spoken. I didn’t know what to do. Since our last meeting went so poorly, it didn’t make sense to ask her to meet with me again. An e-mail felt insufficient. I rambled whenever I left her voicemails, hardly getting to the point. Text messages were totally out of the question.

I called her every now and then, leaving her a trivial voicemail about how I ran into someone we used to go to school with, or about a sale going on at her favorite store. I wanted to show her how much I missed her, how important she was to me. I hoped to remind her the same about me, but who knew if that was true anymore.

My mom sent me an e-mail, telling me she missed me and she didn’t want to be involved in the fight with Chloe. She said she was disappointed in my actions and that it was going to take a long time for her and Dad to get over it. She suggested it would be best if I didn’t come over for Sunday dinner. I thought it best, too. I was also sure Chloe would be over the house, and I didn