"Love? You love me? Let me tell you something."
"I don't. I don't love you. In fact, I hate you."
I watched as a man single-handedly crush my heart. I felt it crack ever so slightly, breaking slowly under the pressure of denial. Of refusal. Of heartbreak. But then again, wasn't the heart made this way to do exactly that? To break?
"I never liked you. From the start, you were a sissy idiot. You never did anything right, was afraid of everything and cried everyday."
I felt the crack in my chest expand, my chest feeling like it was breaking apart ever so slowly.
"I only kept you around as a servant. Now that I don't need your service, you can go. I don't need you anymore and I don't want to see your sorry ass here." With that, he slammed the door in my face.
Finally, my heart split into two, the cracks getting larger and larger, branching out as I felt it break. I felt its process and I couldn't wait for it to finish before I could head home. I wanted to head home and let my tears fall. Fall and seep through the fragments of my heart, form droplets on the bottom of my fingers and drop onto the floor. That way, it would be better, wouldn't it? After all, crying is the best medicine.
