Chapter 13 Miranda — An overdue goodbye
Things without all remedy should be without regard: what’s done is done.
Macbeth, William Shakespeare
Now, I was awake and out of excuses. I had to respond to Cam, who’d texted me all last night and this morning.
Cam: I’m so sorry, Randa. Can I come over tomorrow?
Cam: We need to talk xx
Cam: Are you awake yet? I can bring you a breakfast burrito. That always helps you.
Cam: I love you.
Cam: I wish I could have been there for you.
Cam: Please don’t do anything stupid because you’re angry at me.
What did that last one mean? If by “stupid,” he meant get absolutely smashed, break the clothesline by hanging off it on a dare from Lucy, or sing Spice Girls so loudly that Peggy and Reg complained, he was way too late with that advice.
I wandered out into the living room. The house was empty. How Cordy and Lucy managed to push through their hangovers to go to work today, I’ll never know. They’re obviously made of sterner stuff than I am. Settling into the sofa with a coffee, I responded to Cam.
Me: Yes, I agree. Come over after work.
Cam: I didn’t go today. I’ll be over in 10.
Cam: Want that burrito?
The thought of a burrito made my stomach revolt. It would be liquids only until about 2 pm, when I would smash something greasy and fatty.
Me: No thanks.
Cam: Are you sure?
Me: Yes, I’m sure!
I sipped my coffee gingerly. I was still firm in my resolve to break up with him, but I felt bad this morning for doing it over text and then kicking him out.
Four years deserved an actual conversation.
I’d forgive him. His sin wasn’t huge, but it was unforgivable after so many incidences of thoughtlessness.
My phone buzzed again. Ugh, I don’t want a fucking burrito.
Cam W: Hey Miranda. Just wanted to congratulate you again last night. Hope you’re feeling better today.
Now that Cam was sweet. That Cam was thoughtful.
Me: Thanks. I’m okay. I don’t have a hangover. It’s more of a medieval curse with a champagne aftertaste. Dying.
Cam W: *laughing emoji* Go on a run. It sounds crazy, but it always fixes me.
Ew. This man chooses to run. I’ve seen him frequently jog past in shorts.
I’m sure the women in the neighborhood support his running, but somehow, I don’t think they’d support mine.
I stopped running in high school when my mean-ass gym teacher tried to fix my “form,” describing my running style as “frantic, drunken gazelle with one wooden leg.” Also, I hate running, so it wasn’t a difficult life decision to make.
I suppose if a murderer was chasing me, I’d run, but otherwise … that’s a no. A hard no.
Before my blood turned flammable with alcohol last night, I had a brief chat to Cordy about my future with Bad Cam.
“I can’t believe I just told him to ‘take care.’” I moaned. “I was just so angry. Maybe I’m blowing this out of proportion.”
“You’re angry because it’s not just one time, Randa.
When Harrison cheated, he absolutely destroyed the foundations of our relationship.
Even if he had wanted me back, I could never have forgiven him.
He destroyed it in one fell swoop. Cam has chipped away at yours, with small, occasional blows, but the end is the same.
The foundation is gone. Whether it blows up in one hit or erodes, you just have to ask yourself if it’s still strong enough to build on. ”
Cordy loved renovating, so it was beginning to leak into all of her “wisdom” chats.
She’s right, and I knew it. It’s hard to move on after four years.
It sounds pathetic, but when you’ve put so much love and work into a relationship, it’s hard to walk away.
An awful part of me wished he’d done something dramatically horrible so I could leave him in the dust and not feel a minute’s uncertainty about my decision.
I was broken out of my thoughts by a sharp knock at the door. Cam’s knocks could wake the dead. I let him in, and we sat awkwardly together. He took a deep breath and put his hand on the side of my face.
“Miranda, I am so sorry. I keep fucking up. I need you to tell me when these things are important to you. If I’d known it would break us, of course I’d have been there. There’s nothing happening with Jess, I promise that—”
“I know. It’s not all about Jess, though the way you’ve prioritized her feelings and needs over mine has been so hurtful.
I shouldn’t have to tell you how to be in a relationship, Cam.
And when I do hint, or tell you that I need something more, you just dismiss me.
I love you, but I really think we’re not suited.
We want different things and it’s getting harder and harder to make this work. We fight all the time. I hate that.”
He nodded sadly, looking out the living room windows.
“Can we be friends for a while? We’ll spend some time together and you’ll see that I’m changing.”
“No, sorry Cam. I mean, yes, we’ll be friends. No one has done anything horrible here. We’re just not suited. I don’t hate you. But I can’t see us catching up for a while. Let’s just make this an amicable break-up and move on.”
He put his hands on his knees as though he was going to stand and leave, but changed direction at the last minute, grabbing me in a ferocious hug.
“I love you, Randa. I’m sorry. I hate this. I wish I could take back time and be there last night.” His voice sounded jagged and raspy.
“It’s not just last night Cam. You know that as well as I do. You’re a fun guy, a good guy. You’re just not the guy for me.” I returned his hug, though with less bone-crushing strength than he was using.
He walked out the door without saying a word.
I should cry. Cordelia cried for weeks over Harrison, to the point where she looked like a swollen baby piglet.
But I couldn’t. I knew the writing had been on the wall for some time and rather than feeling sad, I felt relieved.
I did love Cam, but I honestly don’t know if it was in a true “boyfriend” way.
I loved his company, and he was fun in bed, but if he’d cheated the way Harrison had, I think I’d have just walked away angry that I’d been betrayed, but not upset that I’d lost him.
I texted the Bard Bitches.
Me: Just broke up with Cam officially.
Jules: Chin up little sis. You’ve got us! Now you can go to the retreat.
Cordy: More wine tonight?
Me: Jules, I’ll think about it. Cordy, hell no. I’m dying from last night’s adventures.
I grabbed Cordy’s laptop and logged onto my email. Letty sent the application weeks ago. Was I too late? I scanned the terms and conditions. I had two days to apply. I spent the next two hours filling out the forms and attaching samples of my work.
I liked being busy and having a mission. Lyon, here I come (hopefully!).