by jaywcoombes

‘I don’t care.’ The words came out of my mouth, flat and empty. ‘Seriously. I do not care. Do what you want.’

This was not going how I had imagined. I had practiced this talk a hundred times, ran the words I wanted to say through my mind a thousand times more, but all I could muster was apathy. I couldn’t even meet her eyes.

‘Well, fine.’ She said, her voice as even and uncaring as mine. ‘I guess you’ve never really cared huh? I was just something to pass the time when you were bored, you never actually wanted me, wanted to be with me.’ Her voice was breaking a bit now, and getting louder. ‘I need to do what’s best for me. I deserve to be happy.’

That should have hurt. I want it to hurt. Why don’t I feel anything? I knew this talk was going to happen. Whenever I thought about it, whenever I thought it was going to happen I felt sick. But now, for some reason, I don’t feel a thing. Nothing.

Why am I like this?

‘You do.’ I said. ‘Of course you do. I’m sorry I couldn’t give that to you’.

She looked and me and laughed. ‘Oh OK, here we go. Always the victim aren’t you? For God’s sake give it a rest for a minute.’

I can’t reply to that. She’s right, I know it. I know I made her happy. I know we had great times. Why did I say that?

Why am I like this?

Silence stretched between us. Again, the words I wanted to say fumbled around in my mind, scared to come out my mouth. I’m good with silence, always have been. She isn’t.

She stood up and walked towards the door. ‘I can’t stand this. You’re not gonna say anything are you? You know, being all dark and miserable and brooding is OK sometimes, but right now it’s really pissing me off.’

I’m not any of those things. Confrontation paralyses me. I look at her, I look back down, I rub my hands.

She opened the door and looked back at me. ‘See you around. I’ll be there for you if you ever get over what’s wrong with you.’ I didn’t even look up as she left. I just sat there, staring at the floor.

So, she’s gone. All these words, all the things I wanted to say in the hope that she wouldn’t leave me, float around in my head. What a load of good they were. Why didn’t I tell her what she means to me. Why couldn’t I tell her she is my everything. Why do I cry and shake now. Why now, after she’s gone, do I actually feel something.

Why am I like this?