“Sticks and Stones May Hurt My Bones, but Words Will Never Hurt Me.”

i.

The wind rustled his messy hair as he sat on the park bench overlooking the dying sun. It was much cooler than it should have been for a summer that was supposed to have broken every records for its ice-cream melting heat. In the distance couples were hand in hand as they made their rounds through the park enjoying each other’s company.

“I have something to tell you.”

He let out a sigh and closed his eyes to the glare of the setting sun, and at once, a million thoughts raced through his mind. It felt like one of those saturday morning channels that had nothing but an endless stream of informercials. As always, it paused emphatically on one moment, one which he wished to forget right now — a rainy evening when his world was emphatically turned upside-down. So dramatic that he observed himself from a third person’s perspective, the scene straight out of a black and white film noire. His breath had caught in his throat as he remembered her saying:

“Let’s break up.”

And just like that, the past 2 years disappeared into the ether like it never existed. Who would’ve thought that the English language could have so cruelly-shaped such a simple sentence? He had felt a scorching arrow tearing through his heart and the weakening thuds of it dying with those three words.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

So what if he had seen a future with her? So what if he had decided to surprise her that night? Underneath the dull neon glow of the restaurant lights where they had gone for their first date, shared their first kiss, and celebrated their first year anniversary was no longer important. Only a monotonous emptiness filled him as he watched her enter the passenger side of the car across the street. How appropriate that this would also be the place for their first, and final, good bye. He reached out, wanting to tell her to stop. But he didn’t. Instead, he pathetically lowered his arm and the small red box he had taken out from his coat pocket and clenched in his fist. He did nothing as he watched the car speeding into the night.

“I’m sorry.”

The heavens opened then, and the rain flowed down his face mixing and blending with the salty tears that he didn’t know had begun to fall. The door opened as other patrons were leaving the restaurant. As if on cue, he heard the faint melodies of Love Theme from Romeo and Juliet floating out from inside the restaurant. It was their song, and a fitting end.

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~ by J. on August 10, 2011.

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