Voice #1   

“I’m sorry.  This just ain’t workin’ out,” I told her.  I tried to look my saddest as her eyes filled with tears.

“I…I don’t understand,” she confessed.   I said nothing, relyin’ on the fact that she was a thinker, and I knew if I just let her head do its job, she would be drownin’ in her own thoughts in no time.  “Why?  This doesn’t make any sense,” she whispered, more ta herself than anybody.  “You told me one day we would get married.  You said you were the only person who would always be by my side.  You…you promised.”  She was now submerged inner own tears, and I waited for the blame to shift ta herself, the way it usually did with these types of girls.  “Was it something I did?  It was me, wasn’t it?  It’s all my fault,” she breathed, and once again, history repeated itself.  I’s completely fine with it though, in fact I found it quite entertainin’. Much more satisfying than readin’ a book, or takin’ up a sport.  In my opinion, this was our species best kept secret; the ability ta kill each odder.  Not physically of course, I’d never hit a girl in my life.  Emotionally, mentally, to slaughter their soul. 

“No, no, it ain’t you.  You’re great, Jill, I just…feel like we’re at different parts of our life, ya know? I really feel like we’re different people now.  I need ter move on.”  I tried ter suppress a smile; I was feelin’ very pleased with myself.  She was practically inhaling the lies I was feedin’er.  I said my goodbyes, and then I got up and left.  Hopefully I would see her again soon, just to make sure that I had successfully prevented ‘er from trustin’ ever again.  I always checked up on ‘em.

So ya see the entertainment value here, righ’?  In just a few fake hidden tears worth a heartfelt relationship endin’, a problem that would last a lifetime could be planted in someone naïve enough to allow it.  My work was done.  I had massacred her soul.

Voice #2

All it took was two small sentences.  Not a life changing John Green quote; not a beautiful metaphor that underwent hours of close examination, no.  Just seven simple words.

“I…I don’t understand,” I told him, even though I was starting to realize how bad I was at being in a relationship.  Thinking about it now, I almost never cleaned the house, and I always complained about stupid things like missing my family and wishing we would finally get married.  I also knew that my boyfriend, my forever kind hearted Charlie, was way too good for me.  I didn’t deserve him anyways; I can’t blame him for wanting to end it.  He could do so much better. 

I used every ounce of strength I had to fight back the tears.  I just didn’t understand.  How could a person claim to be unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you one minute, and then have the will power to end everything the next?  Nothing made sense. Nothing …. is … making …. sense.

I can’t think clearly.  Tears are streaming down my face.  My mind is a mess, I cannot decipher my thoughts from reality.  Why can’t I breathe?  Am I having a panic attack?  My head…it’s just a kaleidoscope of memories, of empty promises and years of deception.  I think I might’ve said something out loud, but I can’t possibly attempt to sort that out now.

“No, no, it ain’t you.  You’re great, Jill, I just…feel like we’re at different parts of our life right now, ya know? I really feel like we’re different people now.  I need ter move on,” he says.  I can’t tell if he feels even the slightest bit of remorse.  I must still be out of it, because it looks as if he’s smiling.  Like he’s glad I am in pain.  That can’t be right.  The Charlie I know, so innocent and kind, couldn’t bare the suffering of another living thing, let alone the girl he once promised to love for the rest of his life.  I wonder if he still feels anything for me at all.  I hope he at least felt loved.  Oh my God, when was the last time I told him I loved him?  I knew it was my fault, I knew it.  My head aches from the ever persistent loss of fluid.  He stands up to leave.  I squeeze my eyes shut; I know I won’t be able to handle the sight of him leaving.

I change my mind.

“Stay,” I whisper, as he shut the door behind him.

“I love you.”