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.