Mistaken: A Break Up

When her day had finally calmed down she texted him:

Would it have made a difference if I hadn’t told you? What if I had taken care of it myself and then told you?

She anxiously awaited his reply. Nervously, she paced her room, cleaned it and surfed the internet until she felt her phone buzz, it was a reply.

No and no.

Shira slumped at her desk and looked at the bright screen of her laptop. She opened his facebook page one last time, just to be sure she knew. Chris Masters, his blonde hair, deep blue eyes and sweet smile drew her in but only for a second. She closed the page, grabbed the Danish bakery bag that sat at her feet, got in her car and drove slowly down the road until she reached the white house with the wrap around porch. She slowly walked up the grim walkway, which seemed dimly lit on that hot July day, she knocked on the door and he answered.

“What are you doing here?” Chris scowled and crossed his arms.

“These are yours. I don’t want them anymore.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why are you doing this?”

“You know that these are your boxers and this is your shirt,” she pulled them out of the bag and shoved the tags in his face exclaiming, “they have your name on them! And look this is a stack of all the cards you gave me and they have your name too.” She reached around her neck and undid her heart shaped necklace. “You gave me this for our one year anniversary.”

“Babe, I never gave you any of that stuff. This is so like you; writing cards to yourself, writing my name in things that aren’t mi-”

“How dare you accuse me of that! I didn’t do anything.”

“Then who did? Was it Ezra? I see you guys talking in school all the time.”

“Honestly? You’re bringing this up? I told you we’re just friends.” Her eyes welled up, to think just a few weeks before everything was okay. She thought to herself, if only we hadn’t been so hasty, if only we had waited. Everything would have been normal.

“You’re just as friendly with him as you are with me and Stewart, Johnny, Brandon, Charlie and Max.”

“I don’t understand why you care that I’m friends with guys. I told you that they mean nothing to me.”

“What about Rob?”

“I told you that I don’t talk to him anymore.”

“You’ve always compared me to him and I have never quite measured up. You were never going to be with Rob and you know that. You’re lucky you even got with me.”

“I thought I was lucky. There was a point in time where I thought I was lucky and now I know that I was mistaken.”

“I never felt a thing for you. Shira, you know what your problem is? You think that you’re pretty and nice and that people like you, hell you even believed that I loved you but you are so blind. You’re ugly, mean, no one likes you and I, your boyfriend of 18 months, never loved you.”

“Why would you say that to me? You’re clearly lying.”

“Just go away. Honestly, leave, go back to your perfect little school, your perfect little family, your perfect little temple and live out your perfect little life without me in it.”

“Fine. I’m gone.” She dropped the bag, turned and ran back to her car tears streaming down her cheeks. She grabbed the handle of the door and for a second considered giving him a longing look, but then she remembered that she had one thing left to lose in this relationship, her pride. She got into her car and drove off, speeding with rage.