This is Not Love

I can't do this anymore.

       It was the Monday after prom: Senior Skip Day. I laugh about it now, how crappy it was of me to do it right after prom, but how, since he used me for almost six months, it was perfectly fine that I used him for one night. I had been planning to dump him for about a month, talking to my mom, my friends, even a couple of my teachers for advice on when and how to do it. I decided that I would do it right after prom when he decided to bring another girl home with us after the dance and made me feel like I was third-wheeling with my own date and his "friend."

       I stood on his porch, struggling to hold back tears as I rang the doorbell. The grocery bag full of his sweatshirts was cutting off the circulation to my hand, and my throat closed itself off once his sister opened the door. She gestured for me to come inside, eyes full of concern, and I almost felt bad for leaving him, simply because I wouldn't be able to see her anymore. I shook my head no and burst into tears. She called up the stairs for him to come down and hugged me until he appeared in the doorway. I have little memory of the actual breakup, limited to the image of him leaning against the porch railing as I told him, smiling with a look I still have nightmares about, and the feeling of his arms around me when it was all over.