The Break Up

He knocked three times. I thought it was noise from upstairs. Then he knocked a few more. I sat in bed listening, silently. He finally rang the door bell. All the while I waited in bed afraid to move. The phone rings. I ignore it. Surely he must know I'm ignoring him.

I feel sick about this. I feel sick I needed to ignore him. Finally I hear a slam at the door and I think he's gone.

I slip into the shower and just let it rain down on me. I hate that I am acting so viscerally towards him. But it's over. He had come by the night before on my invitation. We had drunk wine and ate salad. He had talked about the future, and I had talked about seeing other people. We left on a hug, mine was goodbye, his was, well, I'm not sure.

How would I explain this to him if he came by again? That I was kept up all night from the bottle of red we drank and was fast asleep when he rang my bell? This was half truth. I can hear him moving outside. He is reading a magazine.

The shower felt good. It was like drinking a glass of water.

When a person says I love you and you don't feel the same way, the only thing to say is I don't love you. Never is there an option to say anything but.

I'm kind of scared to step outside.

This is not an act of romance. It's a little bit creepy.

Break ups are hard man. I don't want him touching me, I don't want him hugging me. i don't want to give him and indication that I might be interested in his love for me. It is not recipricated.