Tell Me, One Last Time.
He paced the floor, the boards creaking underneath his weight. Back and forth, he walked across the room.
She was waiting for his response patiently, waiting for some sort of emotion.
Just say it, she deserves to know. He said to himself. His mind was going too fast for him to form a sentence. What will she think of me? God, I love her, but I need to be honest.
“I can’t be with you anymore.” He blurted out. His eyes grew wide, he was astounded at how blunt he was being. It was his turn to wait for an answer, but he expected things to take a turn for the worst.
“Please, don’t hate me.”
He could hear a whisper of a voice, so quiet, so fragile. “Is it something with me?” Her voice was cracking, she was trying to stay strong.
He finally sat down, “Not at all. How cliche it sounds of me saying it’s not you, it’s me. But it’s true. I love you though.”
He could hear her soft sobbing, and then he heard static.
Then nothing, he heard nothing but disturbing silence.
The phone was dead, and all connection was lost.