Virtual Breakup ©

Just like in the movies, every good story begins with a bad break up.

Cut to June 2009. I had just moved to London to save myself from the ugly recession cloud storming Europe.

I knew two people in the whole city and my boyfriend; the son of a politician in a corrupt land far-far away called me on Skype one night to let me know he had decided he’s was not going to be joining me in London as we had planned.

His parents had convinced him there were no opportunities for him in London. They had assured him that back in his own corrupt land of plenty a bright future was already mapped out for him. Maybe we could try and make it work long distance?

He also informed me that all his talk of having a little baby Venus so he could love two Venus’s not just one (his quote not mine) was a joke.
A joke, he always talked about it in the sweetest, most private moments a couple has. Like Sunday after sex and just before breakfast with the morning papers:
“Honey when will it be the three of us, so I can take care of two Venus’s? I might love her a little bit more though, will you mind that?”
My little mother-to-be heart would flutter all around the kitchen Disney style and I’d kiss him on the forehead because for the time being, he was my baby.

I put down the speakers attached to the computer and with hands that were shaking like a volcano was erupting inside me I typed “It’s over” into the chat option. Three very real years just ended with a virtual breakup, it hurt just as much as the face to face deal.

Skype kept buzzing in regular intervals for the next two hours. There was nothing more to say.