Member-only story
It’s Never Been You
I really thought I loved you.
The way his hand curls against his thigh and tightens into a fist, you know that this will probably be the hardest conversation you’ve ever had. You both have heard the death knells sounding with your relationship, and now is the time you can’t ignore the bells any longer. The funeral march is here.
“Abby,” he says, like your name is part of a prayer. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before he starts to speak again. “Abby, I know what you’re going to say.”
You don’t reach for his hand even though inches separate you on the bench. It’s a lovely day, the kind perfect for walking, but here you are, still as a lake’s waters on a windless morning, as life is in motion around you. A dog catches a Frisbee in the distance. You try not to think about how months ago he mentioned getting a place together and picking out a dog. That seems like a lifetime ago.
You close your eyes so tight you see spots in the black. “I just don’t think this is working out,” you say. “We want — we want different things, you know?”
He nods, but you can tell his eyes are gleaming with tears he refuses to cry. That’s okay. You want this to be a clean break. Maybe someday you might even be friends again.
“Yeah,” he says, soft, “yeah, I think you’re right.”
You stand and stare once again at the dog running after the Frisbee. A dog’s life seems so simple compared to the complications that come with being human.
“I really thought I loved you,” he says, so quiet you could pretend you didn’t hear him.
And you don’t look back. You can’t. Because now you want to cry too.
I thought I loved you too.
