Strawberries in the Desert

Story telling from Australia

I’m glad we broke up

Really glad. There, I’ve said it. I’m over you. To be honest (and if we can’t be honest after a break-up when can we be?) you were getting on my nerves.

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At the start of our relationship you were a novelty, I’m willing to admit that – eager to please, always there when I wanted you. Was I complacent? Did I take advantage? If I did I’m sorry, but you never complained, not like now with your constant attention-seeking behaviour. Have you any idea how demanding you are? How often I want to throttle you? I don’t suppose you do.

The last few years have been tiresome, exhausting really. I can’t keep up. Maybe it’s the age difference. I’ve aged thirty years and you kept getting younger, kept reinventing yourself. Do you remember when you first came into my life, in that tiny flat in Ealing? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you were quite, well… you were chunky. You’ve lost weight since and it happened so gradually I didn’t really notice, but suddenly you’re slender, you’re sleek, quite frankly you’re rather alluring.

NO! I’m glad we severed our connection.

I enjoyed what you had to offer, it’s true, and yes, I suppose I did take you for granted. I switched you on whenever I felt like it, switched you off without a moment’s hesitation then switched you back on again hours later. You never complained, never answered back. Not like now.

Remember those sweet silent notes you used to slip me? How can I help? Here, let me guide you, just follow my lead and you’ll be fine.

Oh what a slippery slope that was, and look where it led us. You’re never silent now, constantly demanding my attention with a barrage of clicks and taps and pings and beeps and blips…then suddenly…nothing.

The abrupt cessation of hostilities on Friday morning marked the end of our connection.

You’d done this before, many times, and I have no doubt you’ll be back. You always come back. Always.

Maybe next time I’ll be strong enough to resist your charms. I’ll be impervious to those damned pings. Maybe next time I’ll be the one to walk away.

For now though, I sit here waiting, quietly enjoying the silence, dreading and longing for your anticipated return.

[As you can see, I wasn’t strong enough to resist when the promised return took place]

21 comments on “I’m glad we broke up

  1. bkpyett
    April 17, 2015

    Deb, this is such an interesting and tantalising post! I’m glad you’re strong now and able to see things clearly!

    Like

  2. wendylockyer
    April 17, 2015

    Ping 🙂 x

    Like

  3. Mala Burt
    April 17, 2015

    I loved this. Divorcing ourselves from our electronic gadgets is liberating, but it’s a divorce that never lasts.

    Like

  4. Jane @ Shady Baker
    April 17, 2015

    I love your work Deb 🙂

    Like

  5. monsoonwendy
    April 17, 2015

    Ah Deb…it’s a dance isn’t it? I am so aware over here how much I take for granted the speed of connection, the fact of connection goddamit! Learning how to keep it a tool vs being it’s tool is the ongoing challenge! My solution ( albeit evolving) is to try to have defined times of use. And longer, clearly defined times of NOT being electronically connected! Here’s to the dance Nd love from all the girls here!

    Like

    • debhuntwasinbrokenhill
      April 17, 2015

      See here’s where it’s so lovely, to stay in touch with people like you on the other side of the globe. Namaste Wendy and love to you and all, you might like to check out #100saripact and upload a photo of your lovely ladies (in all that free time you have) 🙂

      Like

  6. nantubre
    April 17, 2015

    Haha! The robber of time. A thief of attention. Yep. That’s why I gave up Facebook for Lent. Sadly, that was only six weeks.

    Like

  7. candidkay
    April 17, 2015

    Masterfully done:). You had me thinking you were speaking of a man . . .

    Like

  8. Eliza Waters
    April 19, 2015

    Great post, Deb! I enjoyed it so much, glad you said first what’s been on our minds. 🙂

    Like

    • debhuntwasinbrokenhill
      April 19, 2015

      The only real antidote for me is gardening, getting out into nature. Hope spring is bringing you new life over there.

      Like

      • Eliza Waters
        April 19, 2015

        Thanks, Deb, spring is definitely brightening my world!

        Like

  9. Dale
    April 19, 2015

    It is a strong bond indeed. Once drawn in, so difficult to break free from!
    Fabulous post! So glad I decided to check you out from CandidKay’s blog!!

    Like

  10. laroseedespetiteschoses
    May 7, 2015

    Great post Deb, I have not been able to read any post during these last few months. Slowly I am starting again. Thank you for the ‘likes’ on mine which have not been joyful at all and tears are still falling…

    Like

    • It’s upsetting to read of the sadness and hardship you are going through right now, I hope your followers in the blogging community bring you some comfort.

      Like

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This entry was posted on April 17, 2015 by and tagged , , , , , , .

I'm a writer based in Australia with a passion for gardening, remote places and people with a story to tell.

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