your heart breaks forevermore

Interlude

the good with the bad

The foam on my latte is still in the pleasing shape of a heart, a special the coffee shop is doing this week for Valentine's Day. I haven't even taken a sip yet, the palpable tension between us making my stomach do an array of aggressive somersaults. My craving for caffeine has manifested into a craving for your intimacy, the pensive crease on your forehead indicating that you have something unpleasant or inconvenient on your mind. We both know why we're here, it's suddenly very apparent to me, and yet neither of us wants to get the ball rolling.

Well, which category does dumping me three days before Valentine's Day fall under? Unpleasant or inconvenient? Maybe both.

"You haven't touched your drink." You note this with little interest, clearly just searching for something to say. I glance down and notice the heart pattern has mostly dissolved at this point, leaving behind just a pathetic, misshapen circle.

"I'm not thirsty." Your eyes go wide and then narrow all in the same breath, cocking your head to the side like you're attempting to examine me for some psychological evaluation.

"How can you not be thirsty? We came to a coffee shop, we ordered drinks. Of course you're thirsty." I take a sip to appease you, hoping to prolong the inevitable and possibly avoid this situation altogether. Perhaps you'll change your mind, save it for another day. I can't be that bad, right? What's another 24 hours?

"So, I actually wanted to talk to you about something." You continue speaking when I don't answer right away, instead continuing to drink my lukewarm latte in silence until I am forced to respond.

"Oh?" I nearly whisper, staring down at my almost empty cup and wishing I could exit my body until this conversation is long over.

"Yes...I got the job, in London."

What?

"You got the promotion?" This perks me up briefly, my eyes leaving the cup and returning to your face. My hope implodes the second I meet your gaze, however, when I realize what you're about to say before you even say it. "But you don't want me to come with you."

You sigh, running a hand through your hair and taking a huge gulp of your own coffee. "Look, this isn't how I wanted things to turn out, okay? But I just think this is a fresh start for me. And I don't want anything holding me back..."

"I'm holding you back? How?" I cannot hide my distress any longer and the words catch in my throat, my hands on the table shaking the leftover liquid still sitting in our cups.

"Please, honey, let's not do this-"

"Don't 'honey' me right now, you are the one that started this. How am I holding you back?" Without intention my voice goes from a whisper to a volume loud enough to turn a couple heads, other customers trying and failing to ignore us as we fall apart in front of a bunch of nosy strangers.

"You're clearly upset, maybe we should go somewhere else-" Abruptly I stand, the squeak of my chair shooting straight through my heart as I realize I have lost the love of my life long before you have even left me. I try to control myself but feel the involuntary sob escape my chest anyway, the echoing cry that follows sounding almost animalistic. I look back to see you, just once more, and I am devastated to discover the expression on your face, the one reigning emotion combating all others.

You look mortified.