November 24, 2005
like a wish bone
I thought it would be easier. I had no elation, no hidden smile; I hadn’t been there when I talked to him in weeks. The initial shock was lost in the party I went to right after ending it. But my night was plagued with dreams of him. We fought over the phone about confusion between friends and then I went to his house to “hang out.” I already knew what I had to do. We went outside and stood in the cold of his beautiful ghetto. I no longer loved him the way I once had, when I silently cried in the backseat of his car or when I found myself surprised at how much I loved him. He complained that I never talked to him, this is the usual complaint, I’m not good at talking and as much as the therapist has worked on this it has barely changed. And then we came to Miami, we were supposed to go for my twenty first birthday in a little over a month, I felt like I couldn’t go, I told him, he was devastated. I don’t know how it really ended. We hugged for awhile and as we hugged I stared into the neighbors blinding porch light and thought about all our good memories, running together at his sisters wedding, going to Disneyland, visits back and forth. I felt it was better to end it on an up note for me. He said goodbye, I love you and something about I’ll call you on the way up the stairs I think. I went to the party and saw people I hadn’t seen in a long time, it made me forget that I was still shaking on the inside because I had just broken someone’s heart. Now I just want to lie in bed all day for thanksgiving, I doubt my mom will let me but it’s worth a try. And so waking up I realize that breaking hearts is not all its cracked up to be and that it may have even cracked my heart a little.