A Collection of Short Stories
22-8
“I’m tired,” he murmured. His voice was breaking, just as he was. I was falling apart, just as we were. The words came out one lonely Wednesday night, after another fight. As the sky turned dark and the stars came out, the scars in our hearts started to crack. But we fought them - and oh, we fought hard! Yet, our fighting was to no avail; we broke apart. Night after night and fight after fight, here he was, giving up.
I should have expected it. I should have seen it coming. But I didn’t, and I was caught off guard. My walls shot up as the words rang in my ears, numbing me from the pain and fear.
“You know I tried, and I tried so many times,” he continued. His voice cracked in all the wrong places, and I knew I had taken things too far. I had him go from one end of the world to the other, and now he was falling apart. But he had, once upon a time, traveled all that distance for me.
I willed myself not to cry, forced myself to stay sane enough to mention the words that needed to be said. “I’m sorry,” I said, with every kind of grief in my voice. “I didn’t mean to wear you out, but I did. And I’m sorry. I had wanted to give you the best kind of love you deserve, but I didn’t. I’m not able to. I’m so sorry.”
I allowed the tears to fall after this, when I had given up trying to find words to explain. I knew that no words would be enough to express the pain of having to go through the same thing over and over again. I didn’t know how to explain it, but I knew that he knew what I was feeling because he felt it too.
Despite the tears that keep coming even when I will them not to and the pain that stirs in my heart, this is not the end. There will be a next time, and that will be better.
Next time will be permanent.
I should have expected it. I should have seen it coming. But I didn’t, and I was caught off guard. My walls shot up as the words rang in my ears, numbing me from the pain and fear.
“You know I tried, and I tried so many times,” he continued. His voice cracked in all the wrong places, and I knew I had taken things too far. I had him go from one end of the world to the other, and now he was falling apart. But he had, once upon a time, traveled all that distance for me.
I willed myself not to cry, forced myself to stay sane enough to mention the words that needed to be said. “I’m sorry,” I said, with every kind of grief in my voice. “I didn’t mean to wear you out, but I did. And I’m sorry. I had wanted to give you the best kind of love you deserve, but I didn’t. I’m not able to. I’m so sorry.”
I allowed the tears to fall after this, when I had given up trying to find words to explain. I knew that no words would be enough to express the pain of having to go through the same thing over and over again. I didn’t know how to explain it, but I knew that he knew what I was feeling because he felt it too.
Despite the tears that keep coming even when I will them not to and the pain that stirs in my heart, this is not the end. There will be a next time, and that will be better.
Next time will be permanent.