Short Story of Broken Heart – We Might As Well Be Strangers
Photo credit: Ladyheart from morguefile.com
Today was the first time in eight months that we didn’t talk. Shared a word each and well, that was it.
It was such a bad feeling sitting all by myself without him by my side. Eight months we’d been together. And all that went away in just a mere line of badly constructed words. I woke up in the morning with a strong urge to stay in bed but I had to go to school- I needed to see him.
But come school, came surprises. The surprising silence. The shattered connexion of the two of us. Gone. A column of air hung between us because we barely looked at each other. And every time I did, it hurt like nothing else.
You hurt like nothing else.
The memory from a few days ago washed into my mind.
The moment he looked at me, he knew it was over.
We just sat there, speechless. Eight months of our life, undone. I saw as he looked at me with a blank expression, his lips shaking and he trying to move his hand away from mine. And as I looked at him, I swear, I saw a tear well up in his eye as I broke his heart with the shards of mine.
“So, this is it?” he asked me for an answer I wish I did not have.
“I guess so,” I replied in a broken voice.
I picked up my bag and made my way towards the door.
“Riccha, wait!” he walked behind me, tugging at my shirt. “Please, at least give me a reason.”
“I don’t have one,” I answered. He stood in front of me, blocking my way.
“So, will you ever give me one?”
I banged my hand on the table; fighting tears more than rage. “I don’t have one!” And pushed myself out.
“Please wait!”
I didn’t listen.
“Hey, we all need to go home, at least let’s all go with a straight face.” And then I made my way to the girl’s bathroom to cry myself to death. And he just stood there, confused as to why I left our life in pieces.
I broke up with my beloved for reasons I cannot state. My mind was in a mess and in the hurry, I’d taken decisions I shouldn’t have.
Regret is a hard thing. Taking back even harder.
I missed him so terribly. I ran out and cried my heart out. And I didn’t want him to see. Because it was so difficult and I was so broken.
That was the sad part of the day.
Enter, confusion and a strong slap of realization.
As I sat in the last bench of class and stared at him like a psychopath, I could see a slight tinge of happiness in him. Or so I supposed. I mean, he just looked so happy for a person who had just broken up. It was like, I finally concluded, that I was somehow holding him back from the things he must’ve always wanted to do. That just hit me so hard. Maybe he never wanted any of this and it was all but pity. Maybe I was the worst girlfriend.
Looking at him all happy and with someone else on my usually occupied seat next to him, I realized that I missed it all- the reserved conversations, the special places, the smiles set aside only for me and the guy I could call my own. He was gone; I let him go.
Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard.
__END__
