His Words

I begged you not to go. I told you to stop.

“Stop and think about what you are saying. Think about what you are saying and what it means.” I look at up at him through a blanket of distorting tears, feeling each droplet break free from the puddles forming in my eyes. They stream down my face with such weight and force that they splash onto my chest, soaking my t-shirt and running down over my broken heart. I can feel it and it hurts, it is a pain that is so foreign to me.

He looks up at me and then looks down at his feet. He can’t even face me. I am so full of fury, I look at him and think about how it might feel to strike him in the face, make him feel some pain for the pain that he is making me feel. Under his breath he says “I’m sorry,” and his words only make me feel nauseous and angrier; as if he thinks that that is going to make me feel any better. He is only saying sorry for himself, so that he doesn’t feel so bad for the way he’s crushing me so effortlessly.

Where my heart once beat so profoundly out of love and excitement, there is now a void space, unmoved, scared and only a figment of what it once was. My mind is crowded and as a result it is numb. As the seconds pass, I run through all of the memories that I hold the closest. My thoughts may make me combust. My mind is moving at an incredible rate. My stomach is in my chest. My heart is in a complete and utter state of shock. I flip through all scenarios of how this will end, where I will end up, only questioning the reason for where I now find myself. I search through my mind for what I may have missed, but there were no signs, there was no way of knowing that this was the next step that I would face in my life.