by Silver Moon
Being broken up with, this girl is shattered, and wishes things were different.
| My hands tremble, as my entire body is shaking with uncontrollable tremors. This should never have happened. I should never have let it go this far. I struggle against the tears welling up in my eyes. I cannot show weakness, not now. My lips quiver, and I stare forward with determination, into his eyes. “I’m leaving,” He says. The words I wish I could steal from his lips, and lock away forever. The words I knew would come, the words I didn’t want to believe. He continues to speak, though he must know that I’m beyond hearing by now, “I’m sorry” he mumbles, seeing my broken expression. I want to scream at him, throw a tantrum, because he isn’t really sorry.
Sorry is much more than a word, it is something that should make a difference. If he were truly sorry, he wouldn’t have ever let me love him; he would have stopped this from the beginning. If he were really sorry at all, he wouldn’t leave, he would wrap me in him arms, and stroke my hair, whisper into my ear that everything would be okay. If, but he isn’t sorry. He feels obligated to say so, but doesn’t notice the perfect lies spilling over his perfect lips. I tear my gaze from him, it hurts to look upon the face I trusted. I am staring at the ground, tears falling down, because I can’t stop them anymore. I am falling apart at the seams, everything I’m trying to hold back, escapes. A sob tears itself from my throat, and he pulls my chin up, “look at me!” he yells. How can I? How can I look at the broken promises, the shattered hopes, the dreams long lost? What more can I do, than look away? He looks at me, long and hard, and turns around. He walks away, as I collapse on the floor. I wish I could walk away. I wish he could stay. I wish I had never loved him, but none the less, it happened.