I layed there, pretending to sleep, trying to change my mind. I have always had a fear of inducing pain and this would surely hurt. I muddled over how I would break the news. Stringing harsh words together while trying to coat them with a thick layer of the finest sugar. I wondered if there was a way to do it without the inevitable consequence of breaking a heart that had been sincerely given to me years ago. I humored myself into wondering this while all the time, the nagging sense of reason and logic screaming to me faintly from the background. I knew he would wake up soon. I knew I could no longer pretend. I was terrified and guilty and hated my sudden epiphany. I let out an understated sigh and watched him strech himself awake.

No ‘good morning’ this day or post sleep affection. His eyes were swollen and his face was stained. The questions were coming and I tried to prepare like a schoolgirl who forgot to study. In an instant, she had all the answers. Lined up eloquently and straight, so clear that he would have to understand. But the first question came and it all fell to pieces. The words jumbled into some infinite scramble and I struggled to even speak.

“What do you want?” he asked.

And I didn’t know. I felt instantly sad because I knew that I would have to decide. Decide between settling or starting over. Decide between hurting him or hurting myself. Decide between unfair and wrong. His eyes focused on mine and seemed to draw out my tears like a vacuum. In a five word response, I took his heart and stepped on it gently as if on eggshells.

“I want you to leave.”

There it was, blunt and harsh but nevertheless simple. I didn’t feel the need to complicate things further. I knew the hard part was yet to come. I predicted an outpour of desperate pleas and sincere attempts to change things, the likes of which I had never seen. This was an accurate prediction.

This was the most painful thing I had ever witnessed but I had to be strong. I had to appear cold. My knees buckled and my fingers trembled. I held back and rejected his attempted affection. He would be turning on me soon. I welcomed it silently and waited for some sense of punishment. I secretly wished for him to destroy me with words. I felt I deserved it in some way. I waited and waited. But it never came.

He packed his things quickly and there was silence. Silence so loud, I closed my eyes and heard it ringing. I wanted to hug him and cry on his shoulder which was no longer my sanctuary. I settled for the carpet and watched him leave without a word. The silence became deafening then and I must have sat on that floor for an hour before I came to. I had no idea what to do even though I had been there before on countless occassions. Alone with my thoughts. Alone. I had become used to it, almost accepting of such a fate. This was equally comforting and disturbing. Had I wasted my time? I told myself no and I meant it. It was a good run and now it was over. I thought about the past five years and questioned my decision. I didn’t need second or third opinions. I did the right thing. The feeling of guilt and selfishness quickly turned into the opposite as I realized my actions. I was saving him. Saving us. But I was no hero. Only human.