The Ping Pong Blog (...continued)

I Hate This Part – Pussycat Dolls

I hate this part right here. I know you’ll ask me to hold on, and carry on like nothings wrong but there’s no more time for lies ‘cause I see sunset in your eyes. Will we sleep when I tell you what’s hurting me? I hate this part right here.

A follow up to the Ping Pong Blog I wrote earlier, I Hate This Part by the Pussycat Dolls is a song to best describe the series of events that followed the split.

It was June 4th when I got a text from her asking to meet up to talk. It had been a few weeks since we had spoken and now that she was back in Ottawa she felt that it was really important that we meet up and talk…at least one more time. Although I felt there was no need, friends and family recommended that I go have one last talk with her. Thus I made an arrangement to meet up with her after my “class de Français”. Living on residence, it wasn’t a long walk from my French class, and while walking to her place I definitely felt like Nicole Scherzinger when she sang I Hate This Part. I felt I finally understood what “part” it was that she hated.

I waited a few minutes, typical, but eventually she came down and was all smiles and acted “pre-split up”. I was a little astounded at how easy it was for her. She soon realized I didn’t feel the same way and it was when she asked me for a hug that I realized it may not have been that easy for her as well. We got onto the bus…the 95 it was as I clearly remember, and we started talking. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” is what she kept repeating in attempts to justify everything. I told her how it wasn’t all what she did that was hurtful (though that was a part of it), but it was more so how it was carried out that was more hurtful.

It wasn’t really a short talk; it lasted from the bus ride from the school to the mall. It carried on throughout the van ride from the mall to Wal-Mart…oh how that place has so many memories to me, and continued a bit more in the parking lot of Wal-Mart till we drove back to her residence. In simple terms she was sorry and felt horrible for what she did. On my end, it wasn’t a matter where a sorry would make everything okay. We had had a really unique relationship and the way everything was carried out was just horrible. I had to find out through means of Facebook that she was with someone else. Her excuse for not telling me beforehand was because she “got in an argument with her father”. She had told me about the event itself on a flight home that was supposed to be joyous. On top of everything that she did, the way she did it was just salt on the wound.

It was after I explained it to her that way that she had nothing else to say. “Eh eh, there’s nothing else I can say” – Lady GaGa. There was no further point in arguing about it back and forth any further. “I still love you and care for you. There’s so much we had together” she explained further. That was the problem though, it was the fact that we were never friends, but always those two people with feelings and crushes for each other, that made it hard for us to keep a friendship. How would it work? How would we be able to hangout without looking at each other thinking about everything? How would we be able to go to the movies or for coffee without playfully flirting or messing around? It was hard, and that was the reason that I felt it would be best that we don’t talk or hangout….at least for a while. This wasn’t easy for her to grasp. So many “whys”, “ifs”, “and “buts” but I was set on my decision. It would be the best for both of us. “So will we ever see each other?” she asked. “Hangouts with large groups and at school , potentially”, I replied. The sun was setting and it was time for me to go. The irony in that statement couldn’t be bigger. It was a cliché moment. She left the car and was walking back to her residence. I could see her walking away in my rear view mirror when my phone vibrated. It was a text from her: “I’m really sorry”. With no reply back to that, I looked in the mirror one last time seeing her turn into her residence safely, and drove away. The part I hated was over. I reached home just as the sun finished setting and that’s how another chapter in my life was over.