This Is The Anatomy Of Heartbreak
“Hun” I said, quietly.
“Yeah” He said in return. The worry in his voice led me to believe that he had perhaps suspected my action since i returned home from visiting my parents.
Silence, i couldn't get it out.
“Whats up?” He asks.
“My doubts are back” I force out. “I Just don't think we're right for each other”
More silence.
More silence.
More silence.
I turn over, he's pulled the blanket up to his eyes, staring the opposite direction. No sound coming from him, however, i can feel the unpredictable up and down, in and out breathing that frequently accompanies subtle tears.
“Are you going to say anything?” I implore...this silence is causing my heart to twist and turn, shred and rend the insides of its home in my chest.
“...if thats what you feel...” He says (this is followed abruptly by a sharp intake of breathe) “Then theres nothing for me to say.”
I roll back over, we're back to back now. “I'm so sorry.” I say. Quietly. Its probably the hardest apology I'll ever make in all my life.
Silence again. More silence, always the silence.
“Is that it then?” I say, with unintended forcefulness.
Silence. My eyes start to well.
More silence. I have to leave this is too much for me to bear. I cant sit here. So i get up and put on pants, then a t-shirt, then a polo, grab my cigarettes and head out to the patio. This is about when my soul gets obliterated by my own decision. I dial a number, or rather, my cell-phone calls my friend after a clever selection of buttons.
“Thank you for calling Such and Such a restaurant my name is Girl how can i help you?” Its exactly who i wanted to hear from.
“Girl?” I say, nearly causing a hemmorage trying to keep it together. “I broke up with him.”
“Oh sweetie.” She says in the affectionate way I knew she would.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” The tears start to surge forth.
“Of course you can Hun. Meet me here and we'll go get a beer and we can sort this all out okay?” She states this knowing its exactly the right thing to say. This is why i called her. “Ill pour one for you right now”
“Kay” I manage to get out. I hang up. I cry. A lot.
When I'm finished with the crying I head back inside and pack a bag with all the necessary things for one night away from our...my apartment. I sit next to him on the bed. Once again I try to express my utter disdain for having to do this. Once again my only reply is the air conditioner in the next room, shutting off.
When I arrive home the next day he is gone. His things are still here. The feeling is surreal. I sit down and turn on iTunes, a song by cocorosie comes on, its By your side. I've just discovered a song that can make me cry. When the song is over i smoke on the patio. Staring into the trees that surround my nine story high-rise. I feel nothing I feel numb. I drink a beer and follow it with a few more.
I go home to my parents' house for the weekend. I buy an eighteen pack from the local shop. I drink with my friends on my parents' patio and I don't cry, which makes me feel better. This goes on for two more days. I'm feeling like I want to go home a day earlier than planned. I tell my mother. She says its okay and takes me to the train station after stopping at the local market to buy me some things that ill need. When I arrive home i listen to The Beatles and drink 3 beers and eat some type of frosted chocolate cake thats in my cup-board. Theres the sound of the door opening and he walks in with his friend. He's surprised to see me.
I sit and watch as he takes his things from our apartment. As soon as he leaves I go to the nearby brewery and buy eighteen more beers (they're on special). I drink. But this time i cry. I cry a lot. The surreal feeling is gone. This was the most real I had felt in a long time. I couldn't contain myself. It was just coming out. I couldn't see due to the tears. This was it, I was sure, my body would just cease to work and i would die. This pain was worse than any I had ever felt before. So I drank.
One week passed in a drunken and hung over blur. I woke up one day and I had no more beer and No more money. I stayed sober.
I went into work so we could renovate. The kitchen needed to be replaced and i decided i would help to keep myself occupied. They paid me with beer and double vodka sevens. Except that night I didn't cry. I hurt. But it was less.
The next night I wrote this story. Its true. I still miss him now, and as i write this story down. I cry for the first time, since I forced out “My doubts are back.” But I'm sober.
