Where Do Broken Hearts Go?

1. Half A Heart

"Why aren't you eating?" I asked him. He didn't respond. I don't think he was even listening to me. He'd been lost in his own world, keeping to himself since a month now. I put my hand over his, eyeing his sweaty fingers. It wasn't even so hot; the weather was remarkably pleasant.

He locked his gaze with mine and I could see the redness on his forehead. His blue veins seemed as if they would burst through his skull. He was sweating; last time I checked, he was having fever.

"I can't eat," he replied softly. I didn't get his statement. What did he mean? I didn't even bother to ask him because I knew I wouldn't get an answer.

Like every other night, we were having dinner on the table. Silence was surrounding us, the wind was blowing in through the open window in the kitchen. The only sounds to be heard were of our spoons and forks clashing against the glass plate. The silence was starting to eat me up, it scaring me. There wasn't a single minute until a month ago, where we did not speak to each other. There had to be some random topic for us to have a discussion on.

The apartment we were living in was bought by the both of us together. We got jobs at the same place, and we wanted to live together. Taking a separate home seemed to be the best idea. Our parents supported this decision of ours. They knew how deeply Oliver and I were in love with each other. We'd been dating since high school, and there hadn't been a single day where we went on without talking to each other. Either it was through texts, calls, or even video calls. Mom was tired of asking me to go to sleep early, since I used to spend all night talking to my boyfriend.

Oliver had a lean body yet a muscular structure. He was tall, had biceps and abs, always penetrating out of his t-shirts. With shining blue eyes and hair of the color of chocolate, he was a guy worth drooling over, with a perfect jaw line and long eye lashes to compliment his sea blue orbs. Every girl in our school had eyes on him, including the teachers. But he chose me to be his girlfriend. I always wondered why me? I did ask him the reason, but the only reply I always got was, "You seemed to be the right one," along with a shrug.

I didn't know whether I had to be satisfied with the answer or annoyed. It wasn't either of them I guess. And to be honest, Oliver could never annoy me. His answers were always followed by a kiss, so I couldn't ever help but smile.

We shared a few classes in our senior year. He was the basket ball team captain and I was an ordinary student with good grades and a perfect image around the school. On this random day, while we were gobbling up our lunches in the cafetaria, I heard melodious tunes of the violen being played. A sudden gust of wind ruffled the leaves of the trees outside, creating a sound much like the surf. Kidding! People say this is what happens when something good is about to turn up. What happened was, no violens were pedalling. But, out of the blue, the school's hottest guy came towards our table and sat next to me.

That was it. That day, that action of his, changed both of our lives. At first, I was shocked to see him sauntering towards me, which was obvious I guess. We had hardly ever spoken to each other all our school life. Since that day, we began hanging out together. People did spread rumors that we were dating which irritated the hell out of me. But Oliver didn't care. He said he was happy as long as we didn't have a fall-out.

Oliver made me feel like no one ever did. Every small gesture of his made butterflies erupt inside my stomach. I had had one boyfriend before, but we hadn't been so serious about each other, and spending time with Oliver was anyway different. He showed extra tenderness for me. He had never let me walk on the road side. He'd always hold my hand firmly when we'd take a stroll outside and made sure I was near the side walks. His arms around me, alone, would make feel like home.

When we came back from our first date --- which is still imprinted in my mind and I consider one of the best nights of my life --- he kissed me. You can say it was first real kiss. My kisses with my first boyfriend were never so special. I could never feel the fireworks bursting or summersaults in my stomach, like I did with Oliver.