Like the Vase

Present

I never knew how to say it until I said it.

"It happens all the time!" I shouted angrily.

"You're insane!" He cried and then time slowed and everything clicked.

This was it, we were finally breaking and I couldn't stop it or hold it off any longer. I watched him in a daze as he picked up his things and quickly made his way out of the house, out of my life.

But before he shut the door behind him he stopped and I heard him inhale deeply, pained.

"I can't. We can't, I mean. It's too much; don't act like you don't know. And I'm sorry, I guess I couldn't keep up but I tried. I'll love you always."

And with that he was gone. Gone but would never be forgotten. I looked down at the carpet below me and took a step through the shattered glass beside my feet. If the glass cut my foot I didn't feel it. I didn't feel anything. I laid on the couch and waited. Waited for the feelings to come back or maybe for him. This wasn't our last fight, it couldn't be. He had to come back, he was mine after all.

He's his own.

I squeezed my eyes shut. He couldn't be his own; he was mine for too long.

I inhaled as deep as I could and counted, releasing slowly.

He's gone.

And then I let myself become the vase that was shattered on the floor.