It was a hot summer day at the very beginning of June but only ice ran through his heart that afternoon. The look in his hazel eyes was one that I’d never seen before: emotionless and distant. His stance, presence, and disposition were the same. I should’ve know then that this was the beginning of the end.
I called him over to talk but he opted for sitting on the other end of the tattered olive green couch. His eyes found mine and locked. He muttered, “This relationship isn’t working and it’s never going to. I don’t want to continue staying in this.”
My heart sunk slowly down into my chest and eventually found its way into my stomach. Time stood still as I realized this would be the last time I would ever see the love of my life. This would be the last glimpse I had of his toned arms, his sun kissed skin, and his broad shoulders that used to hold me close and kept me safe. And with one last awkward embrace, he let me go swiftly and effortlessly and made his way out the door. He was gone from my life forever and I had no say in the matter. I had to accept it and move on.