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Rated: E · Fiction · Romance/Love · #1921888
Anger and rage fill my mind.
I threw a vase at the wall. It shattered into thousands of tiny pieces of blue glass, spreading across the room, making beautiful noises that reminded me of rain.

How could she do this to me?

I grab a chair next. As hard as I am able, I smash it into the ground. Two legs break on impact, and it slowly crumbles into something that resembles a pile of dead leaves. I think of autumn. Tears form, but I fight them back.

I thought she loved me.

My next victim is the biggest of all. Mother's china cabinet. I heave with all my might. The fall goes in slow motion. One by one, I watch them break. Every plate, cup, bowl...they all break, of course. The rain comes back, and I remember the kiss, the feel of the warmth...the wood of the cabinet crumbles, and I think of fields and trees.

I love you...you...you...

I can't think of any name to call her. Even if I could, I'd be unable to ever utter it. To speak the insult. I fall on my knees and look at my work. This was everything that was left. I bury my hands in my palms.

Why is he better than me?
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