The drive home from the restaurant was a blur. A numb and heartbroken blur. Even now, I can’t remember how I got home. I don’t remember parking my car, walking up the sidewalk or opening the door. I just remember walking to the basement, screaming my brothers’ girlfriend’s name and sputtering out “he left me.” Even now I can feel her embrace. I feel my knees give way and I feel us crumble to the floor together. Tears filled my eyes and stayed there for months, leaving my bed felt impossible, and forgetting you felt even more unachievable.
However, what I remember more than anything is sitting across from you in that booth. Being told that you love me too much to be with me. That you couldn’t fix yourself because you were so concerned with how I was handling things. You couldn’t be with me because you needed to be better for me. You said all the right things, you made breaking my heart perfect. It was something you would read in a story book. You know, the ones where you’re sad for the girl but find yourself thinking how hard it must have been on the boy. However, it wasn’t a storybook, it was my life and at the end of the day, it just hurt.