"It's not you, it's me. Things just aren't working out. We can't sit here, pretending like we like each other. The feelings used to be different. There used to be love and hope in the world, when there was us. I'm sorry, I have to go. We have to separate."
You turn around and walk away. I feel like I'm going to cry. I won't let you win though. So I just sit. Shakily, I wait for you to come back, but you don't. You never do. The world passes and I'm left alone. And I remember.
The day we first met. You smiled, looking at the ground. I nodded, just a small sign. Others giggled. I flopped my hair back. That afternoon I went for a haircut. You went all wild, tracked down my number, sent me a text. "Wanna go to the movies?" I agreed.
The time we sat on a park bench, you lay your head onto my shoulder. We stared at the holiday lights as they shone. You were shaking, so I gave you my sweater. I sat, trying to ignore the chill air. Flakes started falling, you started shaking again. I wrapped my arms around you, trying to protect you.
The night we strolled down the road. Our hands linked together. The humid evening air hit us in the face like a blanket of hope thrown our way.
All these memories of three years together. You and me, me and you. And now your gone. I know why you left. I'm not good enough. He is though, the jock your holding hands with. You punctured me, left me with nothing. I doubt I'll be as happy ever again but I have to pick myself up. I stand and hold my head up. It sinks again as I see you. So I turn and walk in the other direction.
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