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She was like a star to my world, gleaming with hope, happiness, and joyfulness that seemed to rip through every grey cloud. Yet, the star was closer to one approaching its end than the one we call the sun. At first there was a spark between us, like lightning striking fast paced across a deep Oxford blue night sky. However, it dwindled to the peak of obscurity. It tore apart and dashed into minuscule pieces to a point of where it could never be fixed, with questioning that could not even be explained. It would never be explained and there was no reason for why it should be examined piece by piece to mend the fragmented and unfixable. It was over, done with, complete. A comprehensive conclusion to whatever we had with a response that was nothing I could exactly piece to make sense of all because it didn’t come with any true answer. I analyzed whatever she said into an array of patterns, numbers, figures and digits, but none could fathom what she had just told me.

What was the past eighteen months worth to her? The dreams that once brightened my glorious year and a half with her. It was a time when all appeared  bright, open, and free. The birds would sing in joy over us as we walked merry down the through the lane of trees. The playing, the laughter, the spectacular moments we had together that captured the best time of my life. It seemed as if my life was now a complete success and swimmingly brilliant. Those moments that turned my admiration of her into an infatuation, my childhood lust into a teenage love. A love that I now must tremble at the fact of it faulting as my heart slowly bleeds, gushing out all of its once promising hopes and dreams along with it into an abyss destined towards the ocean…..

If it ever reaches there.

I felt that we were so close to becoming something; an item, a strong couple that can and will stand the test of time, but it is now left in the depth of the past, with only photographs and my memories to trace back to? It seems as if you forgot each time I think about it. She goes even more distant from the emotions I placed into that and the feelings I held for her. It was as if she lacked emotion to anything, especially for my well-being, state of mind, and my interest. She had minuscule care about what I personally thought and she just went idly by with her decision. She did not even attempt to make it into anything reasonable, she just went straight forward with her decision. She just told me that it was time to close the door, stormed out of the ice cream parlor, and didn't even pay for her own Strawberry cola float. There went five dollars down the drain and a receipt to remember her by again, to symbolize those dashed hopes of what once was, what once was dreamed, and now is dashed into ashes that were now remnants of the past, ought to be forgotten, never to be left alone.

She stood there in the pouring rain for eight minutes, until that sleek black car of her mom came storming by and halted to collect her. I watched to see if she would turn back. She did, and looked straight at me. Little emotion, small remorse, not even an ounce of guilt that any other person would have. Yet, I did see a tear that glistened through the window. Sadly, that tear was the reflection in the glass of myself, not her’s. She, instead, gave a soulless straight face that had a peculiar dash of a frown that I could not decipher. She went into the car, moved on, and dashed away just with my hopes and dreams between us. Off into a fjord where all my aspirations that once held us together, into a deep valley of ashes somewhere between Brooklyn and the Eggs.

I don’t think anyone knows what on earth she was thinking. Yet, her pathos oriented personality could make anyone contemplate their life.  It was complicated as a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle with the tiles in several shades of silver and grey. Her complexity compounded her stone-face emotion that complimented her still, stern face. It would be the face that I would have to dread having to see for the next fortnight and the face I would hope not to see for the following nine months. The face of the woman who holds the piece of my heart, but I don’t have the right to call her my girlfriend, my best friend, or even the chance to address her as my friend. We would only be acquaintances. That harsh word that describes those with a lack of connection or communication at any time.

However, we did have communication and all the intertwining items that makes people friends.  It’s just that those things are now, “Just did.”

Not do.

Not doing.


The past.

A thing that isn’t going to continue, but instead will be mired in the bleak pages of a history textbook to look at for future generations to not make the mistakes held in the past. Those mistakes will include our relationship.

I hate that.

I despise it to pieces.

It leaves the most rotten and foul taste in mouth that will resonate in my head for months and possibly years to come.

I don’t want to be the image of humor and have the label be, "Ashamed ex-boyfriend to Sabrina Hoover." I will be forever tormented for what I went through and the horrendous, pathetic stupidity it became. My friends warned me continuously that such a thing was going to happen.

“She’s horrible, she’s great until she breaks up with you.”

“She’s going to break up with you in a horrible way.”

“She’s a trap. She’ll destroy you.”

“She doesn’t really like you.”

They said that only a week after I asked her to be my girlfriend. After six months, I thought that those friends were all scandalous bigots just menacing to manipulate my feelings and emotions to annihilate my relationship with the goddess of beauty. When, in all honesty, it was me who was being as naive as a flower.  Innocent, careless, and unaware were all perfect adjectives for my shambles that turned to its climax and was now entering its catastrophic and thrilling collapse. Yet, she was just one girl. It was just one relationship.

I can and will become stronger from her. It was only this girl who was playing with my feelings in the end and she will not daunt me from anything else in my life. Let her be in her own sphere of confusion while I am in the real world and conquering all of it and there to shove it into her face. I can become something without her and find a perfect woman who would join me into that journey up and beyond. Without bleakness. Without any pomp. Just the two of us living out our lives together into a perfect step by step harmony down the dripping rain as we merrily sing. That is the girl for me. Not the one that just dashed my hopes away with little sympathy expect for the fact that she had to go watch a football game when she got home and that's why she had to go so early.

Though as much as I will attempt to pep rally myself away from her, I will still think about her. There will always be that person that will need to care about the most. Me. Myself. I. But I just can’t seem to stop and pause without that facade of horror staring at me. It was wicked, it was powerful, it was the image of my life. It was staring at me right through that window and it dashed in just milliseconds. What I saw in that face right when she went in was my life flashing by, not just our relationship, but what could be my future relationships and my past relationship just hammered into one image.

The stern, yet smiling, yet frowning face that captured all the highs and lows that was our emotional roller coaster. It was now finished, but something was just about to begin. I could tell by that murky face that there was hope for me, but how much would come?


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