Saying Sorry

I shook my head slowly, my eyes filling with tears. The crumpled paper lay softly in my hands; weighing heavily against my skin with negative connotations of what Jake’s now done to me. I’d made the bed, cleaned up the clothes and shut the window. The curtains hung flat against the wall. I was sat on the end of the bed, holding the filth that broke my heart – again. His feeble lie meant nothing to me now, as I realized what a fool I had been.

“Megan,” I whispered.

My heart had been on my sleeve all this time. All this time he had been deceiving me. What had I done? I ignored all of the obvious signs; I’d seen him so many times before whilst being unfaithful. He’d edge away from my touch; his eyes would betray him – his intense hatred for his self would shine through; they would scream at me – tell me of all the lies and betrayals.

I’d forgive and forget time and time again; I didn’t want to lose him – I couldn’t see my life without his gorgeous smile… I couldn’t live without being beside his perfect soul. But the point I was missing was, simply, he wasn’t perfect. Simply, he was hurting me – and wouldn’t tell me to my face that he couldn’t be.

The latch on the door shut. His beautiful face beamed down to me from the archway between living room and bedroom. He saw my red eyes, my tears, and instantly knelt beside me – and put his arms around my fractured frame. I leant away. He saw the crumpled piece of paper. It looked months old. I held it loosely, and he clearly saw the number, name and heart inscribed onto it. His lungs let out air, and he dropped his arm from my waist, moving away from me, and sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing my side.

His elbows dug into his knees as his hands massaged his tired face. I didn’t look at him, “you know what this means,” I said quietly. The apartment was silent; I heard the hum of electricity running through the walls. He said nothing; nothing. Nothing he could say was good enough. He’d ruined me before; again and again. “You have to go,” I said simply. It sounded so much easier than it would be; we both knew that. He kept his face in his hands – saying nothing.

I knew he could hear me – and he wasn’t being ignorant; he was too ashamed to be found out. I looked out the window, and tightened my grip on the number. It was scrunched up into my palm. I threw it at his hands – rightfully where his face should’ve been; he looked down to it through his fingers, and just nodded. I stood, and began to strip down the covers from the bed – he didn’t even flinch.

After every time I caught him cheating – I bought new sheets; and he was used to this now. What he didn’t expect was my words, “All you had to do was stay faithful,” I began, his face snapped up towards me. “and you couldn’t even do that for the one you loved,” I stated, almost shouting, whilst ripping off the cover from the duvet. He sat still; not replying. “Now we have to throw away these years,” I started, shoving my hands into the pillow case – ready to rip that off, too. “All because you were too cowardly to say when a relationship is too much,”

He stood, and took my hands out of the pillow cases. I flinched away from his guilty hands.

“We’ve only just a few last hours, we gotta make this count,” He sighed sympathetically to me, I brushed him off.

“Make what count, Jake; your infidelity, or your inability to keep a promise?” I went back to removing the sheets. He stood beside me, bemused, lacking of knowledge on what to do. “You can’t fix this,” I blurted out – he looked at me like I read his mind, “you damaged us enough – so now you leave, and you don’t look back. That was our deal.” Both pillow cases were off and I slammed them into his stomach. He held the cases gently, stroking the silk patterning which we both adored.

I ripped off the bottom sheet angrily, and it flew onto the floor, creating a large mess. “Calm down, Laura,” he cooed softly,

I growled up to him, “Don’t tell me what to do, Jake.” I sighed and resumed clearing up the ruined sheets. I put them by the front door, and collected the other sheets in our cupboards, putting them all there too.

Jake gently put down the pieces of material he was carrying onto the pile of sheets that we’d bought together. I began piecing together all his belongings, and things that reminded me of him.

“Actually, Jake,” I said to him, we were standing opposite each other by the front door, “you can keep this apartment, with all your sordid memories,” I laughed sarcastically to myself; man, was I an idiot. “I’m moving,”

I walked back to my bedroom, and left him standing there. I began to pack quickly, only collecting things of great importance to me – and things that didn’t remind me of him.

I heard our stereo turn on, and the front door latch clicked. Before I could cover my ears – the song began to play beautifully on the speakers. “Saying Sorry” by Hawthorne Heights…

The song he’d written for me once we made this decision – that when he cheated next; he would never see me again.

The tears spilled over my eyelids, caressing my cheeks with the warmth and comfort. I curled up on the wooden floor, holding my knees to my chest. My sobs became louder with every breath I took. Each line encased my body in a shield of love and regret. I rocked slowly back and forth, knowing the words I would never hear from his mouth were the ones I needed to hear most.

I pulled myself together, the words bubbling up inside of my body; the hurt taking over; my instinct telling me to run.

I walked slowly to the stereo, the song finishing, and heard the lyrics that hurt me the most:

Saying goodbye this time, this time
seeing you cry, makes me feel like saying sorry...

I slammed my open palm into the side of the stereo, knocking it off the shelf – breaking it into many little pieces.

“I hate you, JT Woodruff.”