Invisible

Eddie and I broke up a year ago and for whatever reason, I haven’t deleted his number from my phone.  I thought we had been happy.  I had been happy.  Until the weekend he told me he was out of town for work and I caught him going into the Embassy Suites with his ex-girlfriend. 

I should have confronted him on the spot, but the lump in my throat was too big for me to be able to even swallow, much less talk.  I dropped his stuff off at his apartment the next day with his key and a note.  He didn’t even call, but instead sent a text saying he still had a pair of binoculars at my place.  I didn’t even know why he had a pair of binoculars or that he even owned a pair. 

I knew breaking it off was the right thing to do, but I had to keep reminding myself I shouldn’t be waiting for his call.  I finally pulled out his binoculars and was going to return them so I could get rid of every trace and move on.  Until I realized what I could do and who I could see with them.  I bought a book about birds and started carrying it everywhere so people wouldn’t question why I had binoculars around my neck.  Viewing my life through binoculars became my new obsession.  And my new way to hide.  I could hide from Eddie and hide from life.  I finally became invisible.