There was a certain emptiness in your eyes, and your tongue seemed too heavy for your mouth to carry. Your heart seemed overburdened, skipping beats, trying to align the rhythm with the words you wanted to say. When the strength to move those lips finally found voice, “I don’t think it’s working between us” tumbled out of your mouth.
Now the ball was in my court, but I wouldn’t dare any back-and-forth like a tennis match. I knew that the score was love-love, but our personal score keeping was different. There was no need to continue the game because you had already won my heart, and I had already lost you.
There you sat on the edge of your seat, hoping this would be an easier conversation than you thought. “It’s okay” crawled out of my dry throat, disappointment weighing down every syllable.
It was nothing more than a blanket statement to cover up what I truly felt, because this wasn’t new. I’d been here before. I’d had this conversation before.
As your lips formed those words, my mind repeated them over and over. I eventually mimicked your lips with my own as your words fell out of your mouth.
“I understand,” I said, to drown out the thoughts that said I didn’t think I could do this either, but I was willing to try harder to fix us and keep the tears at bay.
I then let silence vacuum everything out of the air. I began to talk to myself, prepping myself for our embark on another journey of heartbreak.