“Hi, LL.”

That’s all it took. A simple WhatsApp missive of “Hi LL” to get us back together.

Time (and timing) is seemingly an important contract in our relationship. My therapist commented on this in our last session. She expressed surprised, at her own observation, because (she said) it usually isn’t an important data-point for her practice; but in my case, it felt important.

I’d spent Thursday, Oct 24th in existential agony. Filled with self-loathing at having overestimated my emotional progress, and the blindspot to my own hope. By the end of the day, I made a decision to take a small step to regain some ground: I re-activated my online dating profile.

A simple act, one would say. For me it was an act of rebellion, defiance, resignation and despair. He’d told me on Tuesday that he had met someone he would like to see more of. On Wednesday he’d sent me pictures of him drinking. On Thursday he’d ignored my outreach. I decided I needed to get on with my own life. So I did.

On Friday afternoon, I received a call from him. First to say he received my message. Then to tell me he saw my profile on the dating app. He said “I thought you said you weren’t on it anymore. That you didn’t enjoy it.” He followed that up with “You can do whatever you want.” And then repeated the observation “You said you didn’t want to date anymore.” There were no questions. Just statements. They felt like accusations of wrong-doing. I felt compelled to make excuses. I felt shamed, though there was no reason to feel shame. I felt like a person who gave her word and didn’t keep it. I also felt injustice. It was all unjust. It wasn’t fair.

But I did not argue. I changed the subject and re-focused it back to his mental health, reiterated my friendship and offer to be there if he needed a listening ear.

He acknowledged my offer, said it was kind. Then proceeded to reiterate again why he did not want to be with me, that he’d always felt safe with me but my behaviour the night of the breakup made him feel unsafe, threatened. That everyone told him he was right to leave me when he told them how I’d behaved. What would people say if he got back with me?

I was bewildered. I’d not asked to reconcile. What was the point of this? Why tell me he told everyone? Why tell me he painted this ugly picture of me that was surely out of context and not true to form? Why demean me to people who don’t know me? But I let him talk and held the space in silence. Until he asked me directly, “Don’t you agree?” I said I just had one thing to say - which was that when he listens to people’s counsel - and that it wasn’t related to us and our relationship, that he remembered that people can dispense free advice all day long, but he’s the one who needs to wake up and face himself in the mirror the next day and every day. He’s the one who needs to live with the consequences of all his choices. So he needs to consider carefully when he’s making decisions and taking advice, about anything.

The conversation had to end because I had to go back to class, and he had to go to a meeting. I had believed that was that. I was angry. And hurt. And mortified.

On Saturday, Friday’s conversation still troubled me. I felt very low, listless, anxious. I had an all-day class that day, but 60-minutes in and I was ready to crawl up the walls. 90-minutes in and I wanted to scream; 2-hours in I felt ready to pass out from the exhaustion of keeping it all in. I left school, went home and crawled into bed. I stayed there until the late afternoon when that WhatsApp message came in from him, waking me up. A simple “Hi LL”.

Oddly, at this time, I felt nothing. No excitement. No dread. No sadness. No happiness. Nothing. But I was amiable and responded with a “Hi C”. He had wanted to meet and to chat. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I did not want to see him. But his mental health made me hesitate at the point of “no thanks”. I agreed to go to him. We spent the early part of the evening talking about his depression and suicidal ideations. He wanted to tell me what he was feeling, he wanted to know what I thought was happening to him and why, he wanted me to tell him how to fix it.

Then he suddenly said “Now I want to talk about us.” I had a strong urge to go home. I was apprehensive. I did not want to row; or be made to feel bad; or be blamed; or to have a ugly picture of me painted that was unkind, unnecessary and untrue.

He told me what he felt in our relationship - what he termed the unhappiness. I let him talk. Then he asked me how I felt. I replied in one word “unsafe”. He asked me to elaborate. I shared my increasing feeling of having to walk on eggshells around him; of having to lasso the moon for him; or never feeling like I was enough; of becoming increasingly insecure; of being on alert all the time; of being physically and emotionally exhausted at always putting him first without any reciprocity.

He seemed surprised. He asked me what I wanted. I said I did not want this - this constant state of alertness, this feeling of insecurity, this sense of not being good enough, not being simply enough. At this point he rushed over to hug me - perhaps he thought I was getting emotional. We ended up in this embrace and he said he wanted us back. I wasn’t sure, but I was sure I wanted to remain in that embrace forever. So I let the tide carry me. I did not say “yes”. I did not say “no” I merely said, I’d like for you to go to a workshop with me on communication. He agreed without hesitation. So just like that we re-contracted our relationship (that’s how my therapist termed it).

And just like that, we were back together.