(mid- March)

“It’s done… We’re over.”

Those words kept repeating itself in my mind, just like a broken record- over and over again.

Despite how many times it continued play, my mind couldn’t grasp or comprehend it, any of it. It wasn’t like I was anticipating this day to come; honestly, this was probably the last thought on my mind. We’ve been together for so long that I always figured the two of us were this picture perfect couple that our friends mused about. I always thought that were happy together, that no matter many times we fought, we’d somehow find ourselves forgiving one another with time. But what I didn’t expect was to come to the realization that I was the only one who had that simple minded notion.

I blinked a couple of times before I opened my mouth to say something- anything. However, instead of the snarky comeback I was hoping for, I let out a broken sob.

“Don’t… don’t cry.”

I didn’t want to hear those words from him, I didn’t want him to pity me, so when he tried to hold my hand, I instantly clasped them onto my lap, biting on my bottom lip to keep myself from crying any more.

“Don’t you love me anymore?” my voice came out hoarse, almost as whisper.

I didn’t look at him, but heard him let out a heavy sigh. I knew he was frustrated, and I knew he didn’t want to explain himself any more than he already has because he knew it was going to hurt me. Of course, I knew the truth would hurt, and I knew how much my heart would want to deny it. But I still wanted to know; I mean I had the right to know after all.

“I’m in love with someone else.”

At that moment, I felt the burn in my throat grow as my mind was finally able to understand the simple and hurtful reality of it all, but most of all, I felt my heart drive itself into a dead end street.

After that, I don’t remember what he’d said or when he left; all I remembered was somehow finding my way to what used to be our favorite spot- the secluded roadside with the view of the city. I remembered when we used to come up here, when I had asked him why this place was so special to him. I remembered the way he thought about it for moment, face furrowed together long and hard as he tried to come up with a plausible answer.

“Because, it makes me feel free.”

I never used to understand what he meant by that, and I still don’t, but looking out towards the city, gazing out at the view for the first time since we parted ways, I felt that sense of freedom. However, it wasn’t the freedom that people would normally feel. The freedom I felt was the freedom to finally let out all that pent up frustration and sadness I had tried to suppress, to let out everything I wasn’t able to tell him before, to tell him how much I wanted him to stay, and to tell him that I didn’t want him to say goodbye because I still loved him and I still wanted to be with him. But no matter how many times I begged and pleaded for him to stay, now or at that time, I knew the truth would not change.

I swallowed hard, heaving out a shaky breath as my vision began to blur to the point where I was beginning to see red. Everything had felt so surreal to the point that I, myself, was wishfully hoping it was all a dream. But I knew that deep down, somewhere, in what was left of my broken heart, that it wasn’t all a dream.

And it won’t be, ever.