The Best Friend
"It's all so black and white to you."
My soon to be ex-lover is sulking.
"If you say so," I reply ignoring the hurt etched in his face.
"But why? Why?" I flinch at his the child-like whine. "I thought we had something...I thought -"
"Shhh," I say putting my finger to his lips. He scowls, annoyed.
"I don't care who hears us!"
"My darling, please," I am eager to placate him, eager to move on and away from the spectacle we are creating in the café I will never return to again. "We had an agreement, remember? No strings and no commitments and one of us may choose to end this. I choose to end this now."
"Why now? Why?" I touch his cheek - oh so smooth! - and wonder if he feels how cold my hand is.
"I'll die without you, I'll kill myself, I will!" he splutters.
"No my darling you won't."
"I'll blab! I'll tell everyone!"
I smile at his childish bravado. "Please don't waste your life on me."
"I love you."
"I have to go."
"I can't. I'm sorry. Goodbye." I leave without a backwards glance.
I think of how my son, after a suitable grieving period and whenever the next perky girl comes along, bounces back every time his heart is broken - and my Stevie, at 15, is a full year younger.
I am confident his best friend will be just fine.
submitted at 2:29pm
1 September 2011
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