Chapter Forty-Two: Happy Breakup

Early in the morning, not quite awake yet, I lay in bed, lost in my own thoughts, when suddenly I felt my phone vibrate.

“Who could be texting me so early?” I wondered as I fumbled for my phone beneath the pillow.

“Let’s break up.” The message was signed by Meizi, and its contents left me utterly stunned. Meizi wants to break up with me? There hadn’t been the slightest sign. Just the night before last, she’d told me that when things calmed down in a few days, we’d go shopping together. How could this be happening?

I was completely bewildered. Maybe Meizi was just joking. Clinging to that faint hope, I replied, “Why?” Those three words had practically become my catchphrase whenever I got dumped.

“There’s no reason. You don’t need a reason to break up. If we don’t want to be together, then let’s not.” Her message was plain and unemotional; I couldn’t discern any reason for the breakup in her words.

The matter settled, I didn’t reply again. I tossed the phone aside, pulled the pillow over my head in a fit of gloom. The darkness and suffocating air snapped me into clarity.

Looking back on the past two months, though I didn’t feel much love for Meizi, after being friends for so long and spending time together, a bond formed—even if not pure, still a bond. Suddenly, I felt the urge to laugh just to keep from crying.

I lay dazed in bed until nearly noon before finally deciding to get up. The first thing I thought to do was call Haozi.

“Nursing a broken heart?” Haozi guessed before I could say a word.

“How did you know?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.

Before I’d finished, Haozi snorted, “Come on, man, don’t I know you? If you weren’t heartbroken, you’d never bother calling me. Am I wrong?”

Speechless, I had to admit he was right. When I was in love, I barely spared a thought for my friends. Now that I’ve been dumped, how could I expect them to help me?

“All right, all right, I’m just teasing. Don’t take it to heart.” Perhaps sensing he’d gone too far, Haozi quickly tried to comfort me, “How about we go out for a few drinks tonight? You’ll feel better by tomorrow.”

“Why not now? How about we go out right now?” I was going out of my mind with boredom.

“Now? Are you nuts? It’s the middle of the day! Where do you expect to go drinking?” Haozi was startled by my suggestion.

“Isn’t your place empty during the day? Could I come over?” I asked tentatively.

“Uh… fine, come on over.” Haozi hesitated, then agreed with a sigh.

From elementary school to high school, I’d been to Haozi’s place more times than I could count; it felt as familiar as my own home. When he opened the door, a wave of cool air from the AC washed away the summer heat clinging to me. It was so hot that Haozi was only wearing a pair of boxers. He bent down, tossed me a pair of slippers from the rack, and ushered me inside. I made a beeline for the sofa and flopped down.

Haozi soon dragged a case of beer out from the kitchen, setting it by the coffee table.

“None of it’s cold?” I asked offhandedly.

“Man, you’re picky!” Haozi grumbled as he headed back to the kitchen. “All right, all right! There are two bottles in the fridge. I’ll get them.”

Soon enough, Haozi returned with two icy beers in one hand, and a plate of leftover chicken feet from lunch in the other. I shifted over to make room for him on the couch.

The first sip of beer was blissful. Maybe alcohol really is a good thing—drink down a glass, and all your sorrows seem to sink from your mind into your belly. Egging each other on, it didn’t take us long to lose all sense of direction.

Dizzy and nauseous, we took turns hunched over the toilet, trying to empty our already empty stomachs.

Afterwards, I collapsed on the sofa, muttering over and over, “Drinking is hell! I swear I’ll never touch it again!”

“Yeah right! We haven’t even finished the case. I thought you could hold your liquor…” Haozi was tipsy too, shaking his head and raising his glass to me again.

“Lele… Lele, I love you…” Suddenly, I shoved Haozi aside and stood up, shouting at the top of my lungs.

“Are you heartbroken over Meizi or Lele?” Haozi staggered up to join me. “Didn’t you just break up with Meizi? Why are you yelling about Lele?” He was so unsteady he looked about to topple over.

“Meizi? No… no, it’s Lele… no, wait… it’s Meizi.” I rambled incoherently.

Maybe what Meizi said a few days ago was right. In modern relationships, as long as neither side has wronged the other, if one wants to break up, there’s no need to plead or explain. If you don’t want to be together, then don’t.

With the alcohol coursing through me, I seemed to understand: the one I could never let go of was Lele. My whole relationship with Meizi had been a mistake from the start. Now that we’d split, perhaps it was for the best. At least from now on, we wouldn’t have to carry any burdens—these past days had been exhausting for us both.

I’d never drunk so much in my life. I don’t know when I passed out, nor when I came to. When I finally opened my eyes, I lay there for a long time before realizing I was on Haozi’s bed. I had no idea what time it was, only that my head throbbed, my throat was parched, and waves of nausea kept washing over me.

I staggered out of bed and opened the door. The living room was empty, still reeking of stale alcohol. Sticky puddles of spilled beer glistened on the floor, and chicken bones we’d gnawed were scattered all over the coffee table.

A glance at the wall clock—it was already after nine in the evening.

“You’re up.” At that moment, Haozi emerged from the bathroom, looking nearly as rough as I felt.

“Sorry for making such a mess of your place. Let me help you clean up,” I offered, embarrassed by the chaos.

“No, no—leave it to me. You’d better get home. If you’re not back soon, your mom will probably report you missing to the police.” Haozi pressed my arm down and joked.

“Well… thanks, Haozi,” I said, scratching my head.

“Come on, what are friends for? Get out of here already…” Haozi gave me a playful kick and pushed me out the door. “Be careful on the way—don’t get run over.”

“Thank you, Haozi.” Facing his tightly closed door, I whispered my gratitude in my heart.