Nic Narrates

You called me on a Monday. You were 3000 miles away in your London hotel as I sat crouched over my desk phone at work, quietly listening to your words dangle.

You told me you were feeling uncertain, but didn’t think it was going to work after all. You knew I would, and didn’t want me to, think it had anything to do with anyone else this time. You told me it was never what it should have been, that you didn’t want to repeat old mistakes. You admitted to avoiding me, hiding out from facing our problems as a couple. You explained how you’ve been trying to be okay on your own, preparing yourself for what, you said, is an inevitable break up.

I wouldn’t let myself react. I wouldn’t let myself cry. Instead, I said only that I haven’t given up; that I love you, support you, want you to be happy. I said I won’t hate you…I meant it. But inside it feels as though someone is slowly, methodically dismantling a beloved home, brick by brick, and I am forced to helplessly witness its regression.

You said a lot of things that day. It’s been four more of silence. Silence that tells me everything that you did not.

Filed under: boys suck, break ups suck more by Nic