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“What are you saying?”
His eyes slid up from the floor to meet mine. Ice blue surrounded medium sized circles of black, the eyes I fell in love with were glazed over with . . . was that fear? Guilt? Sorrowfulness? Why would such diminish emotions cast over my boyfriend’s eyes?
Voice wavering with something I couldn’t identify, Daniel elaborated, “I’m breaking up with you.”
Suddenly, the lunch room went cold. I felt the phrase sink into my mind. The words like heavy footsteps sliding into thick mud. My lips began to tremble, and my throat was as dry as a desert. Cracks began to form in my heart, splitting any loving feelings I had felt for him in half. I felt tears beginning to spill over my eyes. God, why did I have to be so effusive?
Daniel’s hand suddenly shot out and covered mine. I quickly pulled it away, not wanting him to act as if he didn’t do anything wrong.
“Why?” I managed. I was surprised I was able to speak.
Daniel sighed and answered, “I think that it would be best to . . . see other people.”
Pain quickly turned into anger, a searing wrath that was focused on the jerk who had just spoken to me. ‘See other people’ . . . what’s that suppose to mean? I’d known Daniel for probably three years, and now he wanted to see other people after dating me for six months? Nothing entitled him to burden me with this kind of misery. My heart was perfectly good until he told me those words.
“Kelsey, say something.”
I muttered in response, “Don’t talk to me.”
Before Daniel could reply, I grabbed my tray of untouched food and walked toward the trash cans. I threw the wasted food in the scrap can and lay my tray on the metal counter, where a stack of black trays sat.
Black, the color of total carelessness; the emblazon of pure solitude. Suddenly black seemed to be a great thing to be consumed in.
It was raining when the final school bell rang. I walked home, not minding the precipitation. My eyes adverted to the sidewalk, I didn’t bother putting my hood up. Rain ended up drenching me, soaking my body with what I considered the cloud’s tears.
I guess the clouds felt my pain.
Locking my bedroom door, I threw my bag on my bed and immediately stripped off my wet sweatshirt. I stared at the piece of clothing in my hands, wanting to burn the garment. Daniel had given me his sweatshirt one night when we had went for a walk and I had complained of the cool air.
I remembered the way he told me how good I looked in his hoodie, the smile playing his lips intensely. The way he said he loved me, and how his fingertips tickled my cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, was still fresh in my mind. I still felt his lips on mine, the sensation the kiss would give me still liable deep down in my stomach.
Upset with my reminiscing, I went into my bathroom to try and relieve my mind of Daniel.
Looking in the mirror, I sighed in disgust. My hair was a matted mess, the mane of chocolate brown sticking to my neck and face. The violet liquid eyeliner I had put on this morning was now smeared from excessive tear-swiping. My eyes were bloodshot from the tears, showing me that I needed to invest in using some eye drops. Exhaling, I knew that it was the face of a broken heart. Daniel had created that face by snapping our love in half like a twig. He was the only one who could create this face, the only one I had trusted to preserve my heart with such a protection that it would never get hurt.
I turned on the shower, letting the heat steam up to mirror. I stepped inside the shower and was pounded with hot beads of water, the warmth stinging my skin. I stood there in the spray, letting the water pour over me. Pushing my hair back, I added shampoo to the mix, lathering my hair with suds. After a minute, I rinsed my hair.
Contemplation entered my mind as I closed my eyes and remembered times where Daniel had hurt me, verbally and physically causing me anguish. Once, he had slapped me because I was talking to my cousin, Travis. He had thought that he was a guy I liked. Another time, Daniel and I had fought about something stupid and he ended up calling me horrible names, accusing me of being things I was not.
I hated him, positively hated him with identifiable estrange. I was a wall of composure and autonomy before I began dating Daniel. After we got together, he began to remove the bricks that had made up that wall, making me weaker and weaker. Now, he had sent the wall falling.
I endured my thoughts until the hot water turned ice cold, surprising me into reality.
I went back into my room, pulling my dripping wet hair into a ponytail. I changed into an old T-shirt and gray sweat pants, not caring what I wore. Sighing, I spotted a picture frame that held a photograph of me and Daniel within the glass. I picked it up, memories hitting me like a tidal wave crashing into a shore. Last years’ Junior Prom. May 12, 2009. Five months ago. Daniel had been dating me for a month when prom had come around.
Junior Prom was the night of my life; Daniel had picked me up, looking as handsome as ever. That night was the first night I had worn a dress. I still remembered the outfit as if the prom had happened yesterday. The dress had been a sleeveless piece of dark blue silk, an indigo sash accenting my waist. He loved the dress, as much as he ‘loved’ me. We had danced slowly, holding each other as close as possible. I remember looking at him and feeling love course through my heart.
Angry with the memories, I threw the picture frame across the room. It hit the wall, the frame breaking apart. The glass shattered into little pieces, falling onto the hardwood floor.
“Jerk!” I shouted at the picture on the floor.
I fell onto my bed, buried my face into my pillow, and cried. I released all my anger on my pillow. I punched it, bit it, screamed at it, and it never responded to my actions. It was an emotionless, inanimate object.
Just like Daniel.
He didn’t care if he made me cry. He never cared about me. He just used me for thrills, to have fun. He never wanted a serious relationship like I did. Daniel was never right for me or my future. I had wasted my time on a guy who was never even worth it.
At school the next day, I felt my stomach twist when I saw Daniel walking down the hall toward my locker. Anger began to rise within me, making me clutch my locker’s door handle with white knuckles. I didn’t want to see or talk to him.
I turned my head and saw Daniel standing there, the emotion of sadness swept over his face.
I snapped, “What do you want?”
“I wanted to say I’m sorry and I made a mistake. I was a jerk yesterday and I want to get back together.”
Pain poked my heart. He wanted me to take him back, after everything he had done to me? Was he delusional? What made him think that I was stupid enough to got back to him?
“No,” I answered, my voice stern.
Daniel stated, “Kelsey, don’t do this. Just take me back. I’m sorry.”
Slamming my locker shut, I looked at him straight in his ice blue eyes. This time, they were glazed with unhappiness.
“You’re not sorry.”
Walking away, I knew I had ended the horrible life he had given me. I was ready to start a new page, one that wasn’t ending with a shattered heart. Daniel was now charred ash to me, never to be conjured up again to ruin my life.