Why had they argued? She couldn't remember now. It might have been about him always pushing her through doors or her always eating his fries. Maybe they had argued about how he was unkind to her friends. Or maybe he had gotten unbearably jealous again. There were so many things they argued about these days. And she never knew when one fight ended and another began. Sometimes she didn't even know what she had done. She knew that he often felt the same way. She still loved him, but now, after all this time, she had lost that unwavering hope in the belief that things would get better. Now she simply hoped for one day, one hour, where they didn't shout at each other. Where they didn't complain about all the things wrong with the other. She was tired of all the fighting.
How had they gotten to this place? She remembered when they had laughed off their problems and helped each other with their difficulties. Now it seemed that they never missed a chance to rock the boat. She remembered when he had kissed her every time he saw her, whether they were in a fight or not. Now they only kissed when they were happy with each other, a rare event. She wanted to fix them, but couldn't find the right tools. She wanted them to be like they were before, but they had changed irrevocably.
She knew, at least when she wasn't lying to herself, that they weren't going to get better. If it hadn't changed by now, then this was them. They were so good together, but they had too much passion. Their love for each other was often blinded by their need to fix what seemed wrong, but wasn't truly broken. He always flirted a little too much and she always wore too much pink. And as much as she wanted to make him perfect and he her, they didn't serve to be each other's perfections. And as much as she wanted for them to work, to be the right people, the pieces that fit together, they simply weren't. They were just wrong for each other and there was no way that they could be fixed without being torn apart. After each fight, each time, she remembered the difficulty in being with him, but was drawn back in with his kind words and heartfelt apologies. When she saw him, she couldn't keep her resolve.
Her only choice now was to not see him. Otherwise she would reenter the relationship. She would forget how she had felt and what he had said until the next fight. And she was sure there would be a next fight. She had to leave now, or she never would. Her bags were packed and she was ready. He would come looking, but even he knew that they had become toxic. She had to go, or forever she would be stuck in this cycle of fighting and hurting and repenting and returning. She couldn't go back.
Maybe one day she would look back on them, having forgotten the fights and the shouting. Maybe one day she would look back on them, a memory of a love long gone. Maybe one day she would see them as what they had been, a love that wasn't meant to be.
