Freed – A Short Story About Freeing Oneself

It’s half past six in the morning when Ramona arrives at the coffee shop across their office.

She sits on the high bar stool after she ordered from the counter. For almost two years of working as a Senior Manager in a multinational IT company, it has become her habit to drop in this quaint cafe before going to work.

She is checking her emails when Bob, the barista, hands to her the Hot Chocolate that she ordered a while ago. “Ms. Mon, here’s your usual order,” he says with a friendly smile.

Ramona timidly replies, “Thanks, Bob”.

As a frequenter of the coffee shop, Ramona is no longer a new face to its staff. The cafe takes pride in its many variants of bold coffees; but, Ramona, for some reasons, gets strength and confidence from her usual Hot Chocolate.

It’s Monday, so her phone won’t stop pinging—indicating that she has loads of messages. Bob returns to the counter and she continues checking her mails. She almost drops her phone when she sees an email from a familiar name.

She opens it:

From: Kian.Cruz@gmail.com

To: Ramona.Torres@gmail.com

Date: January 10, 2018

Subject: How are you?

Hi Mon,

I know. How could a jerk still email you? Call me bullshit, crap, sucker, piece of shit, anything. I’ll accept everything. Just give me a few minutes of your time. I didn’t have the chance to say everything that I wanted to say to you, so will you please read this email until the end?

The 10 years that we spent together were the most exciting and memorable years of my life. The day you accepted me to be your boyfriend was my happiest day, not because the hardship of courting was finally over, but because I can finally say that you’re mine.

You were everything I prayed for and you still are.

“What a dick!” Ramona exasperatingly exclaims.

Days, months and years swiftly passed by. I never knew that I could be loved the way you loved me and that I could love the way I loved you. I never knew that I could sacrifice so much for a girl who also sacrificed as much as I did.

Thank you for everything. For all the firsts that we shared—first hug, first kiss, first travel, first dream that we fulfilled together, first trial that we went through triumphantly—and for all the lasts that I’ll gratefully remember for the rest of my life.

Some tears escape Ramona’s eyes as she reads through the email.

I thought you’ve become strict, insecure, domineering, and controlling. I thought you were becoming a monster. So, I looked for someone who was your exact opposite. But then I realized that you changed because I made you that way. For 10 years, you put up with me. I realized, I was the one who created that monster I saw in you.

More tears escape her eyes.

I’ve got no balls when I cheated on you. I was awfully stupid when I thought I could still be forgiven after hurting you. I was a fool to take your love for granted. I thought I could have you forever.

I am so sorry for all the pains that I’ve caused you. I am sorry for all the painful days and nights that you had to endure.

You were enough, more than enough, for me. You shone so bright that I thought you were overpowering me. I was the one who was lacking. I wanted more than what you can give me. I was hollow. I was an asshole.

No matter how much I regret it, I know I cannot bring back our “used to be’s”.

If not having you and if seeing you with someone else are the punishments that an asshole like me deserves, I’ll carry this cross.

I sincerely pray for your happiness. May you reach all of your dreams, though I will no longer be part of it, you know that I will always root for you.

May the next guy to whom you’ll give you heart takes care of you and loves you the way you deserve. May he learn from my mistake.

I’ll make myself better and if ever that guy hurts you, please know that I’ll come running again to you and ask for your forgiveness and another chance. I’ll kneel if I have to.

For now, be happier, be more beautiful, be healthier. Laugh again. Love again.

Always cheering for you,

Kian

By the time that Ramona finished the email, her eyes are already swamped. She looks at herself in the glass door of the coffee shop and she realizes that she hasn’t been in peace since she broke up with him five months ago; only until she finished reading his email that she felt peace. Maybe that was the message that she was waiting for for so long? She thought.

She wipes her tears and her smudged mascara. She smells her Hot Choco that already turned cold. She closes her eyes and whispers to herself, “I am free”.

It’s already eight in the morning when she bids goodbye to the staff of the coffee shop.