1 WHY ME?

Imagine a young black woman standing under the night sky, her short curly dark hair framing her face. She gazes upwards, her eyes fixed on the moon and stars above. The moonlight illuminates her features, casting a soft glow on her skin as she stands in quiet contemplation.The distant sounds of cars buzzing and honking seem worlds away from her, as if she's in a separate realm altogether. She ponders, questioning why she must endure this profound sense of loneliness. When did it all begin?

Distracted from her thoughts by the ringing of her phone, she retrieves it from her gown and glimpses at the flashing notifications. With a sigh, she mutters, "It's him again." But who is this mysterious "him," you might wonder? He's the second heartbreak, the man she once adored at sixteen, who now feels more like a thorn in her side or an uncomfortable ache that refuses to dissipate.

Contemplating whether to ignore the text, she ultimately knows it's better to confront it. Unlocking her phone, she's met with a barrage of messages:

"HI. How are you?"

"Please don't ignore me."

"At least talk to me."

With a heavy sigh, she wonders why the world seems intent on tormenting her. Gazing up at the stars, she asks, "Are you seriously telling me that this is the best you can do? Why does it have to be me?" Alas, no response comes.

Playing with her bracelet adorned with the Sagittarius sign, she contemplates the irony of her situation. There was a time when she loved this man wholeheartedly, seeing only him in her world. He was her universe, the embodiment of her deepest affections. Yet now, her heart remains silent, a stark contrast to the fervor it once felt. She harbors no guilt, for he was one of the individuals who shattered her. Though she once yearned for his love, she yearns no more.

Glancing at her phone once more, she makes a bold decision.

"To heck with it."

She navigates to her contacts, scrolling until she finds his name—or rather, the moniker she's assigned him.

"Ah, there it is." With determination, she selects "Delete" as it flashes on her screen, and then presses the call button.

Despite his zodiac sign's purported traits of loyalty and obedience, Levi embodied neither. He was the epitome of cautionary tales.

After a brief pause, he answers. Disappointment laces her voice as she asks, "What do you want now?"

"I'm sorry," he repeats, though she's heard these words countless times before.

"Is that all? Okay, I'm out."

"Wait," he pleads, but her interest has waned. This cycle has repeated too many times.

"What now?" she retorts.

Once again, he apologizes. In that moment, she contemplates how she arrived at this point. "Maybe I should start my own saga as the villain," she mumbles.

"Okay, I've heard you. Bye, and don't call me." She hangs up and proceeds to block him, fully aware she'll likely unblock him eventually.

Defeated by her own perceived foolishness, she acknowledges the struggle of leaving someone, despite societal messages urging otherwise. Maybe being 24 isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Sighing heavily, she gazes at the stars once more. It seems that's all she does these days. She shifts her attention to her bracelet.

"Days outta space, huh? What a load of nonsense." She hugs her gown tightly before retreating into her apartment.

"I wonder why I'm not an alcoholic yet."

As she steps into her apartment, a sudden impulse urges her to address the messages on her phone. With a heavy heart, she navigates to her messaging app, fully intending to delete and block him. However, as the app opens, her heart sinks. There, among the messages, lies the name of her greatest heartbreaker, the one person who still holds sway over her heart to this day. The sight of her last unanswered text to him serves as a painful reminder of his indifference, exacerbating the ache in her chest. He is the man who has left the deepest mark on her heart, a man she has known longer than any of her other heartaches. His name, Jay, taunts her from the screen, a cruel reminder of her cruel feelings.

With a heavy sigh, she resigns herself to the weight of her emotions.

"Looks like it's going to be a wine kind of night," she mutters, a bitter edge to her words.

"Yay," she adds with forced enthusiasm, masking the turmoil within.