The Aftermath of Us

Dre and I have been talking.

 And to be honest,vwe actually talked things over.

Not just “texted until I got distracted,” but really talked.

And I’ve got to admit y’all… I was on it, but I was wrong.

I said what I said, I did what I did, but I also apologized... because truth be told, Dre was never abusive. Not once...

I don’t even know how it got to the point where police were involved....

Okay, let me stop lying. I do know how.

It was me.

And maybe the neighbors, because they were the Greek chorus to my chaos that night...

I admit it.. I was speculating too hard. Connecting dots that weren’t even on the same page.

Turns out, Veronica was just some girl he knew from college. I don’t know her, she doesn’t know me ... but confronting that reality was a slice of humble pie.

When Dre came over and we went out for dinner, out, I asked him, “So, what about that  trip?”

He looked at me and laughed, “Trip? Are you still tripping about that?”

And I said, “Yes.”

He said, “There was no trip. I went out to work. Please don’t make this bigger than it is. Veronica’s just a nice person. Look.”

And then he showed me a picture... of Veronica, her husband, and their child.

Y’all. I didn’t even know she had a husband.

He told me he was in their wedding. Said they were like brother and sister.

I believed him.

But Lord, she still looked good.

So I made peace with it.

Dre wasn’t dishonest, I was just lost in my own imagination, building a story where none existed.

And yes… I apologized for breaking his PlayStation.

Offered to buy him an Xbox.

He said, “I’m not an Xbox guy.”

And honestly, I should’ve known that was symbolic.

Because now? He’s my ex.

Ugh.,..

Honestly y'all,

I shouldn’t have provoked him

.. that shove could’ve landed him somewhere his whole future didn’t deserve to go. He didn’t hit me; I just hit the ceiling of my own emotions.

We talked. We ate. We even went to Dave & Buster’s like two normal people playing pretend.

Y’all — that’s our therapy spot now. The adult Chuck E. Cheese for hearts that don’t know if they’re broken or just tired.

We had fun. We laughed. We understood.

Then he told me he couldn’t trust me anymore.

Not in an angry demeanor. But. He said, “If you’re going to investigate everything I do, I can’t see us being together.”

 and I gave him that because he had a valid reasoning.

And that, somehow, hurt worse than anything.

He said, “These are the consequences of your actions.”

And I had a tear in my eye... because he was right.

So I joked, “Well, catch you on the rebound?”

He smiled and said, “That depends on what you call a rebound.”

We both laughed, even though it was goodbye.

He told me not to worry about Christmas,  that he still had something for me, even if he wouldn’t be there.

That was his way of closing the door gently.

And yeah, this one is tough because my mom likes him. My dad even approved, which never happens.

So, before I got out of his car that night, I did the most human thing I could:

I laughed, sighed… and yes, accidentally passed gas.

That was my farewell trumpet — my imperfect little finale.

He laughed too. Told me he’d reach out “if anything came up.”

But we both knew that was code for let it be.

......

I was the bad girl for no reason.

But even in that chaos, I learned something holy:

Destruction isn’t always the end.

Sometimes, it’s just the sound of you shedding who you were never meant to stay.