Well, that was it. Three short simple words. It was two phrases that were used in common conversation quite frequently, and didn’t mean much. But put them together and they mean everything.
“I’m sorry. Goodbye.”
It broke her heart. She turned and began to walk away before he could see her cry. If he saw that, he would comfort her and she would just feel worse. No, she had to get out before he could see her, before he could chase her, before he could ask why.
Those three words had been poison on her tongue. Saying them had been the hardest thing she thought she’d ever done. But it was all for the best. She had spent a lot of time thinking about it and she knew it was best. But she couldn’t have him questioning it. Because if he asked she would have to explain, and if she answered honestly than he would try to stop her, and she simply couldn’t have that.
Briefly, she had considered trying to make him do the dirty work. If she was annoying, stupid, clingy, and bitchy enough, then she knew she could warp his mind enough so that he left her. But that thought was discarded almost as soon as she thought of it. Then he would blame himself, and she simply couldn’t have that. No, the point of this was to disconnect from him. Maybe it would make the blow less severe.
With that in mind, she made her way over to his house. He was shocked to see her there so late, but understood when she said they needed to talk. He seemed to know it was coming from that moment.
She spoke quietly, saying as little as possible as quickly as possible. She told him none of it was his fault, and how it hurt her to have to do this, but they had to end it. She talked and he listened and when she finished he didn’t have anything to say, so she stood up to leave.
She had half hoped he would chase her, but he didn’t. She had hoped that he would put up a little more of fight, but he didn’t. That only helped reassure her that she was doing the right thing. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take some time to cry over it.