The Break up

 

(She stands in silence, her eyes fixed on him, the words “I think we should break up” echoing in her mind. Two years, nine months, and three days—they’ve been together for what feels like a lifetime. They've faced fights, arguments, and even moments of doubt, suspicions that she might be unfaithful. Yet, despite these challenges, she never expected this. Her heart doesn’t ache the way one might expect; instead, it’s filled with confusion, an overwhelming need to understand. Finally, she speaks, her voice a mere whisper.)

She: "Why now?"

(He looks at her, his face a storm of emotions—hurt, anger, love all mingling together in a painful dance. He takes a deep breath, the words spilling out like a dam that’s finally broken.)

He: "I love you, M. I’ve said those words to you a hundred times, but this time... this time they hurt. And don’t try to tell me you love me too, because I know you don’t. Maybe you admire me, admire how I’ve gone out of my way to learn what makes you happy, the things you like, even the things you never told me. I did all of that because I love you, because I wanted to be the one who understood you completely.

But here you are, asking me ‘why now?’ Want to know why? It’s because you’re stuck, M. You’re stuck on him—whoever he was, whatever you had with him. You’re trapped in the memory of how he made you feel, and that’s why you can’t love me. You love the idea of love, the idea of being in love, but not me. You’re still holding on to something that doesn’t exist anymore, something that’s keeping you from seeing what’s right in front of you.

So, we’re breaking up because I can’t keep fighting a ghost. I can’t keep loving you when you’re only halfway here, when part of you is still with him. I need someone who loves me completely, not someone who’s haunted by a past they can’t let go of."

(Silence falls between them, heavy and suffocating. She feels the weight of his words, the truth of them cutting through her confusion. But all she can do is stare at him, the realization slowly dawning that maybe, just maybe, he’s right.)