Fry, baby, fry!

The third instalment of The Godfather Trilogy will always be remembered for three things:

One, it was the worst of the three; two, Sofia Coppola's wooden performance and how she parlayed that into Oscar nominations for screenwriter and director for 'Lost In Translation'; and three, the infamous quote by Al Pacino, "Just when I thought that I was out they pull me back in!"

Well, that allusion was surely on my mind that Tuesday afternoon, as I was just settling down on the office couch for a much needed 40 winks. My handphone had gone on the fritz a day earlier, refusing to light up whichever button I pushed, and then just when I was about to give up, voluntarily called up someone from the phonebook, resulting in my having to explain to my office technician why I called him ten times from 11.00pm onwards on a Sunday evening.

So, I sent said culprit machine to the repair guy and in the meantime, dug out my old handphone from the depths of the unused electronic gadgets pile that I keep for situations like this. Ironically this phone was relegated for pretty much the same reason: dying on me and relighting up as and when it pleased. Well, so far in the 24 hours I had been using it, it was working fine. Goes to show: sometimes you need to leave the machine alone for a bit and it will get its mojo back. Or so I thought.

So, there I was lazing on the couch staring at the ceiling, when all of a sudden the phone beeped the 'You have a message' tone. I checked the screen and was surprised to find that I had six unread messages. Which was weird as I had only just checked an hour ago and there was none. So, out of curiosity I scrolled over to the inbox and found that there were six messages and they were all from my ex! My ex, yes, the one from two years back. The one who one day just decided that she has had enough and coolly said "I think we should stop seeing each other, goodbye" and never was heard from again. The one that got away.

"Just when I thought that I was out they pull me back in!"

A wave of emotions started coming back to me: the blinding anger, the paralysing sadness, the confusing anxiety,the frustrating helplessness. Each and every of them rushed over me in succession, almost causing me to lose my breath for a moment. I thought I was over her. Over as in she-can-rot-in-hell-for-all-I-care over. Over as in she-can-be-fucking
my-best-friend-and-I-wouldn't-even-bat-an-eyelid over.

I opened the first message:

"Hey baby... How are you today?"

Hey baby? Hey baby???? That was unexpected, to say the least. What right had she to call me 'baby'? Then suddenly, it hit me. This wasn't a 'new' message. It probably was a message from way back when that the phone had stored in its memory and somehow decided that it was time to torment me with. Again.

I opened the second message:

"So what's for lunch? I missed talking to you last night."

That was familiar. Very familiar. I recalled receiving that message when we were still in the euphoric stage of the relationship. When a day without talking to each other was a day of longing and anxiety. Without realising it, I smiled. Briefly, before the pain came back again.

Third message:

"Honey, I'm sorry I didn't answer your call. I am in a meeting. I'll call you later."

This was a trip down memory lane. A very rocky lane. In hindsight I should have recognised the signs that things weren't going well. But I guess my stubborn and hopeful belief that things was or could get better overpowered my common sense.

"Just when I thought that I was out they pull me back in!"

The fourth message was a plea to help pay her car instalment. Well, that was RM600 down the proverbial drain. Now, I am not one to demand that an ex return all that I have given her a la Beyoncé's " Irreplaceable" but that message did give me some pause to mentally calculate just how much I did 'help' her with. There was that RM2000 for her car gear box, another RM500 for new curtains to help her mom celebrate Raya and I didn't even wanna think of all the holidays we went on, holidays which I paid for the both of us.

By now, all the fondness had already been sucked out of my reminiscence and all that was left were bitter reminders of how stupid and foolish I was to think that she thought of me as more than just a cash cow. So by the time I got her fifth message:

"Happy Birthday! Hope I am still in time to wish you" - I almost wished that I never found the damn phone.

One would expect that the first person to send a birthday greeting would be the love of one's life right? Well, I did receive that birthday greeting... at 11.45pm, with just fifteen minutes to go. Hmmm....now, it does sound petty of me to be so mad at her for wishing me so late in the day, had it not been for the fact that she actually was one of those who remembers everybody's birthday and has been known to take time off work just to bake cakes or cookies for someone's daughter's birthday party and borrow money (from me, no less) to rush-delivery an Amazon.com order just so that the package would arrive on time for her best friend's dog's birthday celebration.

A dog.

And all I got was a birthday sms hours after everyone I knew ( and some I completely forgot about) had sent me greetings.

"Just when I thought that I was out they pull me back in!"

The sixth sms was the inevitable goodbye and fuck off message. I had complained to her about the way she 'almost' forgot my birthday. Instead of apologising or even at least coming up with an excuse like she was busy at work or had some major life threatening problem to deal with, she came back with,

"I am not like your mother or your best friend or your stupid colleagues who will bother to remember your bloody birthday, ok? "

Wow. And that was how it all ended. I never heard from her since and while it was painful, the triviality of how it all came to a head, helped me realise that this so-called relationship was just too immature and silly, both for me and for her.

Now, with all six messages read and digested, I once again lay down on the couch, and reflected on the love that I thought was The One. How sweet it was in the beginning. And how badly it turned out in the end. And how, now, I can really say that, yeah, I really couldn't care less if she is frying her selfish bitch of an ass in hell right now.

Guess there's only one thing left to do.

I pressed 'delete'.