The Desultory Brain of Me

Losing Him ~ Break Up III

Losing Him ~ Break Up III

It wasn't supposed to hurt.

It had been a mutual agreement to end their relationship. It was what they both wanted. So it wasn't supposed to hurt.

But it did.

Just not in the usual way.

Seeing him sitting there, just across the classroom, talking to one of his many female friends happily, just made it worse. It had been three whole days since they had ended it, and it had been three whole days since he'd last talked to her. Every day they'd gathered their books at their lockers right next to each other without even exchanging the usual hello's that they used to throw each other's way even on the busiest days, and every day he'd made the trek down the many flights of stairs after fourth period right behind her without making an effort to acknowledge her existance when three days ago they would have chatted all the way down.

What happened?

They were supposed to go back to being the friends they were. This silence was worse than heartbreak. Sometimes she couldn't tell if she was heartbroken over him or just mad at him. And even when she was heartbroken it wasn't the kind of boyfriend-cheated heartbroken. It was an I-just-lost-my-best-friend hearbroken. Seeing him there, in all his perfection acting like nothing was wrong at all, almost made her want to walk over and punch him.

But then she's see him in a different light, and it would be heartbreak all over again. The anger was always there though.

She didn't dare try to talk to him. Maybe she was intimidated, maybe she actually still liked him, maybe he just made her nervous, but she kept her distance as much as she wanted to talk to him again.

Every day she rehearsed what she would say in her head, and every day she wouldn't be able to gather the courage to say it. She dreamed of walking up to him like she wasn't scared at all and saying, "Don't you dare stop talking to me." Many times she almost did walk up to him and spilled her heart out, but every time she's stop herself before she did. She couldn't face him.

As time went on the anger lessened, but the pain was always there. It would always be there. Because it didn't matter if they used to be inseperable, it didn't matter that they were the best of friends; silly things like teenage emotions were powerful enough to ruin it all. She vowed to leave herself out of anything that came remotely close to those teenage emotions that year, but she found that quite difficult.

She lost him. In a sense, she lost two of him: the boyfriend and the best friend. Two more graves to dig in her mental graveyard of people she'd lost, and for only one person.