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2nd Place Flash Fiction

A Rough Breakup by Johnathon McLaughlin

I knew our relationship was ending months before she had even said the words. I have a sense for these things; I can read her emotions like an open book. But I don’t think she realized just how much leaving me was going to hurt.

If I had one wish, it would be the ability to explain to her the heartbreak she is inflicting on me. To show her that she isn’t just another passing stranger in my world, but that to me, she is my world.

The decision to breakup was hers alone, but I know she is still upset over how things turned out. I can see it in her eyes - the way she turns away to hide the tears running down her cheeks when she tells me that I have to leave, that she just can’t handle me anymore.

Our shouting matches over the last month had become much more frequent and intense. But the real tipping point was last week, when I broke her mother’s urn on the living room floor. She hit me hard - right on the nose - when she saw the remains of her mother scattered across her favorite rug. I tried to tell her that it was an accident, but she just didn’t understand.

I forgave her though.

Does she even realize what she means to me? Every second we spend apart feels like a lifetime. What am I supposed to do with the memories of our times together? What about the new memories we will never get a chance to make? No more walks on the beach or hikes in the forest behind our house. No more playing catch to pass the time on a sunny summer afternoon. I can’t even remember the last time we had a water fight. She always won them anyway.

I’ve tried everything I can to convince her to let me stay, to show her that I could change. For the past few days rather than passing out on the couch watching television, I’ve made it a habit to sleep in our bed together just like when we first met. I even stopped leaving a mess around the house

 Still, nothing I could do was good enough for her.

Today when I came in she told me she had gone online and found a new place for me to live.

When we left the house this morning I could tell she was feeling a mixture of anger and sadness.

“Get in the back!” she shouted at me.

Our last drive together, and she wouldn’t even let me sit next to her.

I tried to enjoy our last few moments.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head out of the car window, feeling the sun shining on my face, and the wind blowing through my hair.

I cried when I realized I would never be her good boy again.

She left me at the pound and never looked back.

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