Jessica hummed to the tune of her current favorite song as she whipped out her phone. It was champagne gold in color, with a pretty slide up structure. It was an old phone too. The one she had been using before she changed to a Blackberry Curve with the renewal of her phone plan. Her Blackberry had died on her the previous day and she had sent it for repair. But she had no complaints with this phone. It had a beautiful history too.
Her previous phone to this pretty phone had died too. It was a Samsung touch screen phone. Oh how much she hated touch screens. He knew it too, and when the Samsung phone died, he took her phone-shopping, and this pretty phone was what that caught her eye. Smartphones were already in fashion then, especially iPhones.
“Just get a smartphone, Jess. Look. I can access Facebook and Twitter with my iPhone. It’s worth the money. And look at the apps I have!”
But Jessica loved that pretty phone. No matter what anyone said, she was adamant in getting that phone. Part of it was due to her budget. But most of it was because he had said it was all right to get it.
“Get what you want. It’s your choice,” he had said.
She loved it when he supported her, even though everyone else disagreed with her decisions in life.
Jessica loved to write. She had hidden her works all her life.
“You have no future if you decide to be an author, Jess.” That was her mother.
“It’s not easy for you to make money and survive in the industry. You need to have pure talent, which you have to admit you don’t.” That was her father.
She had written many stories in her life. Her flare for writing had not gone unnoticed, but discouraged. And the best part was that people who discouraged her from writing never read any of her stories. But he was different. When they first knew each other and he heard that she loved writing stories, he had requested to see one of her works. She showed him what they both liked – Harry Potter Fan Fiction. It was incomplete. But he had said he liked it, and that it was nice.
“You should continue writing.”
And that was how she never stopped.
Now that the pretty phone was put to use again, it had proved every bit as loyal as it had been. Long battery life, no automatic reboots, easy to use conventional keypad… And a stash of messages in the inbox for a lifetime memory.
Jessica had meant to scroll through her messages to look for a friend’s address saved it in. It had not occurred to her that she would stumble upon the messages she had saved; messages from him. Somehow, she slowly scrolled through everything, read every one of it. Months ago, she was apprehensive; even looking at his name on her address book hurt.
“Dear, I’ve just knocked off. Where are you? Are we meeting today?”
“Dear, guess what just came in the mail today. MY DRIVING LICENSE!”
“CHELSEA WON!!! GO TORRES!”
“I was wearing Torres jersey today while watching Chelsea match.”
“Nope. He did not score. ): “
“Nope. Drogba did not play today. But Cech made some awesome saves. I’ll show you when I head over to your house this weekend.”
“Congrats on your A, dear! Happy for you! How is your story going?”
Jessica could not help smiling at those messages. They were sweet. She remembered the days when she could even feel his excitement just from those text messages. She could feel his love towards her, concerned about what she loved most. Those messages went on for months.
“Morning baby. I’m on my way to school! There’s playwriting lesson today! I’m excited! Are you heading to work now?”
“Hey love, I just ended school. Where are you now?”
“Baby? Is everything okay? Reply alright?”
“Sweetie, you haven’t replied the entire day. Is something wrong? I’m worried.”
Those messages were in her Sent Messages folder. They never got a reply. Not even till today. The very next day the messages were sent, they had broken up.
Jessica smiled slightly at the messages. Months ago, looking at the messages would have sent tears cascading down her cheeks. It had been hard to look through them, looking at how the fading of a relationship had been recorded in such detail over their conversations via text messages. But now looking at them, memories flooded back.
They were on the couch, her head on his lap as they watched movies on the screen. She remembered how sweet it had felt when he cuddled her, recalled the warmth of his lips when he leaned down to kiss her.
She ended work late, despite having rushed through her work in the hopes of ending work on time. She ran for the train, alighted from it hastily, brisk-walking as fast as she could through the peak hour crowd. The moment she stepped on the escalator which took her to the first floor, she looked around eagerly. Her eyes found him in the crowd, donned in a green army uniform, looking much more tanned and much thinner when she had last seen him three months before. She remembered the smile and the tender look in his eyes when he saw her too.
She was lying in bed when he called, saying he would be late for her birthday. At the same time, the doorbell rang and her sister ran in to say that he was actually right outside the door. And he was – and even cooked lunch for her.
There were many more vivid memories like this. Curiously enough, they brought a smile to Jessica’s face. And when she tried to remember the last of the days when they were together, she could not. Blurred images appeared. She did not know why it ended, only recalling that she had sobbed into his embrace for about an hour before she left. They had never been in much contact since, even though they had promised remain as good friends. She remembered thinking how even the one, last, simplest promise could not be fulfilled – and maybe that was why they were never meant to be.
Her thumb hovered over the button for a while. What was over was over, and somehow she was glad it was.
“I loved you, and I still do,” she whispered. She wondered if he could hear her.
They would never be together again, and it was not what Jessica wished. They had been together for so long, shared so many beautiful memories together. A breakup and a loss of contact would not break that invisible bond between them. But maybe it was just wishful thinking on her side. She did not know whether he felt that way too. It did not matter whether he did, though, for the hurt was no longer there.
Her thumb hit the button.
“All messages deleted.”
She was happy they once shared something to beautiful and sweet, and it was enough to last her for a lifetime.