Cigarette in hand, she closed the trunk as she stared up at the long line of roach infested apartments. This would be the last time she would stare out into the night from this long line of old and decrepit cars - cars that seemed to reflect their owners - using the lights from the numerous lamps that illuminated the windows along the brick facade as her mental springboard. She had made a choice and there was no turning back.
He would cry. He would blame himself. Was he not good enough? Attractive enough? Maybe if he had worked out or dieted. Maybe if he had bought her more flowers or wrote her more love notes. Maybe if he had stayed that cute little high schooler she had fallen in love with.
She couldn't let that guilt dissuade her. She knew it was time to move on. She kept telling herself she wasn't in love anymore, that she may never have been and despite that she knew otherwise she had to hold on to that self imposed little white lie in order to walk away now. It was the right thing to do.
Her heart wasn't open. It never would be. Not enough to equal the love that he had for her. He deserved better. He deserved someone who wasn't damaged from a very short lifetime of rejection. She couldn't trust or let anyone in. He was still innocent enough. One heartbreak would heal. The years of heartbreak left her heart with a scar so rock hard she couldn't tell if it was even beating anymore. After a few years, when he had found someone who was just as passionate and loyal as him - everything he didn't have with her - he would realize just how wrong she was for him. Would he forgive her? Time would tell and it didn't really matter anyway. She was leaving.
The usually jam packed highway was nothing but open road now. Few lights passed by and those that did went unnoticed. She just coasted along blinded by her self-condemnation. She didn't have the strength to wipe the tears away so they just streamed down her face and quickly became sticky streaks punctuated by her red nose. She could smell the salt. Slightly opening her mouth with one sob after another, she could taste it too. This was it - it was over.
Time to move on, for both of them. Let him be who he deserves to be and loved the way he deserves to be loved. Let her deal with whatever comes - alone - if that is what fate intended.
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From Melinda - since it wouldn't let her post.
ReplyDeleteApparently I'm not a "team member" so I couldn't leave you a comment:
May I ask what the inspiration for this story is? To me, it didn't sound personal until I read the part about the guy and being a high school lover. From an outsider perspective, I would just imagine this to be a tale of broken hearts.
BTW, you write really well. It flows without sounding simple or plain even though you used regular English without any trite adjectives or other forms of speech.
I like it.