My Instagram Love

Episode 25

Three days. 3:13 AM.
I couldn’t sleep, as usual. Sleep and I had suddenly become sworn enemies. Coffee became my soulmate overnight. Regular midnight programs on the radio were now music to my ears. Little by little depression clouded my reasoning, and I started crawling back into my shell the same way I was fond of doing since time immemorial. This awful habit was something I thought I’d gotten over since my childhood, but I soon came to the baffling realization that it never really left me. I was like a fragile snail whose tough shell was the only protection it had. In my case, being an introvert was like having a shell which protected me so well from the cruelty of the outside world—from the wickedness of mankind.

I had always been a loner right from time—ever since fate decided to take away my limb and left me incomplete. All I had left was the love and care of my immediate family and my trustworthy friend, Jessica. As for my extended family, they were completely out of the equation. Majority of us lived in the same state; so close by a short distance, yet so far by heart and family bond. They’d left me to my fate. They’d left me to die in my misery. I couldn’t blame them, anyway. They were only humans with their respective flaws, so I couldn’t expect any less from them.

Today marks the third day since the incident at the mall happened between Prince Charming and I. In all honesty, I cried my eyes out the same night it occurred because I saw it coming, but I never expected it to be as drastic as it was. I remembered calling out to my very own Tunde Ednut, crying and wailing at the top of my voice, only to be ignored and treated like ‘utter trash’, according to Jessica’s words. I also remembered when I’d tried to tell him about the issue I was facing beforehand by giving him various hints about myself, hoping he would understand the underlying meaning of my words, but in the end, he actually never did. Deep shame would be an absolute understatement to express the way I felt on that particular night. First, it was Denise the salesclerk who insulted me unintentionally, and I remembered shrugging it off like it was nothing at all; then Tunde’s final blow summed it up for the whole night and left me in total shock because I could’ve sworn he was different. I could’ve sworn he wouldn’t leave me on my own the way he did. I could’ve sworn he’d never disrespect me like that. I could’ve sworn he was a cool gentleman and a lovely dedicated philanthropist, due to his online personality which I had fallen in love with over time.
I guess I was wrong. I was always wrong. Fantasy and reality are two different things entirely. I should’ve paid more attention to my instinct. I should’ve avoided coming out of my shell and opening up to people who didn’t even care about my existence; people who didn’t even see the good part of me—and I started to regret sharing so much about myself to a random guy on the Internet who flirts with anything and everything under the skirt. For three straight days now, he’d been avoiding my calls and he never called back or replied my text messages at all. His last seen on Instagram was counting towards 64 hours, 12 minutes ago. I knew he was definitely avoiding me at all costs, and the thought of it ached my head so much, disturbed my already troubled mind and broke my heart even more than the first rejection he’d done to me.