I can still feel the sharp shards of glass that punctured my heart. Even though it had been five months since he uttered those words that broke my heart, I still felt the pain as potently as if it had been only hours.
It was impossible to explain how I felt. The easiest thing to name was rejection. He didn't want me. I doubted he had ever wanted me. Had it all been a lie? Did he ever truly care for me? But no, that was silly. Of course he had loved me at one time, but I could see now that that love had diminished over the years whilst mine grew stronger. Our relationship had grown one-sided.
Oh God, the agony was unbearable.
It wasn't as if there was a hole in my chest – not at all. That would have been merciful compared to my current pain. Instead, it felt like my soul was shattered into thousands of dying fragments, yearning for the one who could put it together again but never would. Those fragments were the sharp bits of pain that would assault me whenever I saw CDs, motorcycle or a smile that diminishes the eyes.
I wasn't broken – that would have been too easy.
I wasn't hurt – too simple.
I was screaming inside my head while I lay mute on my bed, shrieking in anger at myself and in longing for him.
It had been absurd of me to believe that he could love me in the first place. I wanted to break down and cry once again. I wanted to smash things and let loose all the misery and fury inside me. I was so angry with myself. Had I done something to push him away to make him not love me anymore? But I wished I knew what I had done to cause this to happen.
I wanted to curl up in this bed and close my eyes, never to open them again.
It would be easier if he hated me, or if he had yelled that he never wanted to see me again. Anything would have been better than that pleasant indifference with which he treated me. Our love had all been one-sided, at least in the end. But, how could I have been so blind to see that he wanted to get rid of me?
I brought my knees up to my chest and hid my face in the space between. The pathetic thing was, I couldn't even hate him. He had hurt me worse than I thought anyone ever could, and I couldn't even bring myself to despise him. Our time together seemed so brief now, just a blink of an eye, yet it was filled with happiness and the best moments of my life.
I remembered the first time he had kissed me. His palms were soft on my cheeks as he cupped my face. My heart was hammering and butterflies danced in my stomach. His thumbs rubbed my skin tenderly, sending electric currents through my nervous system. He paused for only a moment before he brought his lips to mine in a movement so gentle that it was like a feather brushing my mouth. Only a whisper of a kiss, so tender and soft that I wanted to sigh and melt in his arms.
Now I knew that nothing was ever permanent. Nothing was ever as it seemed; nothing was ever simple. Looking back down at my hands, I remembered his words.
"I'm sorry but I had fallen out of love..."
I could never be around him without being destroyed by the misery. Then I hid my face in my arms and gave myself over to the scorching tears that consumed me.
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