A Place She Couldn't Avoid

It has to be today. That’s what Jules kept telling herself as she walked towards the entrance of the park, the one that always marked the boundary between the past and her healing. She knew that if it wasn’t today, perhaps it would be never. A moment passed, lost forever to fate’s clutches. Each step she took felt heavier than the last, her breath heaving as she reached the very place she knew she had to be. The wind picked up making the trees groan at her arrival, almost approvingly. 

‘It has to be today,’ she whispered to herself out loud. A mantra to push her forward into this twister of emotions. 

Her chest tightened as the wind picked up, whipping strands of hair against her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this conflicted—this torn between the past she couldn’t let go of and the future she wasn’t sure she was ready to face. The memories of the past—the love, the hurt, the longing—swirled inside her, battling with every step she took. She couldn’t keep running from it, not anymore.

Then she saw it and her eyes sprang with tears. The very item that plagues her memories in every waking moment and just when she thinks she can find peace in the abyss of her dreams, it is there. A reminder that what happened all those months ago was real. A shadow of what they used to be. Jules takes a tentative step forward, almost sure that the wind (or the item) would swallow her whole. She knows how silly she is being right now. It is just a bench. A withered old oak bench. Their bench. 

Her legs buckle and through complete fear of falling, she takes a seat. Her palm touched the initials they carved into the wood so long ago. Heartbreak is such a human thing. Some heartbreaks feel like fire—burning hot, violent, impossible to ignore. Hers felt more like water. Slow, creeping, drowning her before she even realized she was in too deep.They never tell you that the worst heartbreaks don’t come from love stories that were full and whole. No, the worst ones come from almosts—from hands that touched but never held on, from people who wanted you just enough to keep you, but never enough to stay. Love is the greatest tragedy after all. It scars. Some wounds didn’t bleed. They lingered—quiet, unseen, like bruises beneath the skin. She sits on the bench, staring into the storm, and wonders if heartbreak always felt this hollow.

She can’t help but remember. That is the problem. Her mind is no longer her own, but instead a type of purgatory. Her eyes closed and she was back in that moment three months ago. 

________

The sun painted golden streaks across the park, and Jules swore the world had never looked so beautiful—though maybe it was just him. He often lit up every room he entered. A cliche she could admit but he seemed to bring a spark she’d never seen before. He sat on their usual bench, the one where they first met, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the worn wood. She hurried toward him, heart light, oblivious to the weight he carried in his silence. 

‘Hey, why’d you ask to meet me here so early,’ Jules asked with a goofy grin.

He tried to smile back at her, yet the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

He wasn’t a man of many words on the best day but today, the quiet felt different—like the pause before a storm. It was as though he couldn’t quite bring himself to speak to her. A long silence passed between them before Jules mustered up the courage to speak again. 

“What’s on your mind?” He blinked and she realized she might not want to hear the answer.

She searched his face, trying to decode what he was thinking but it was no use. What felt like hours, but was probably seconds, he spoke,

‘I don’t think we should do this anymore.’

"Oh." The word barely made it past her lips. She nodded slowly, as if that would keep the tears from spilling over. She was lost for words. Never in her wildest nightmares did she ever imagine this is how this meeting would go. 

His eyes searched her face now, trying to gauge what to say next. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. His eyes used to beam with so much love, so much passion. She didn’t want to see what emptiness remained. 

Jules looked off into the distance, trying to process his words. I don’t think we should do this anymore. They rattled around in her head, but they didn’t make sense. Not when she was so sure—so certain—that what they had was real. You don’t just give up on three years together. 

"Wait," she whispered, finally having the courage to say something. "Are you—are you sure?"

He closed his eyes for a second, exhaling slowly. "Yeah."

That was it. No speech, no long-winded explanation, just that one word that shattered everything. How could he do this to her? To them?

Jules nodded, her throat tightening. "Okay."

But she didn’t move. Neither did he. They just sat there, a heartbeat away from something that no longer existed.

Then, finally, he turned to her, eyes heavy with something unreadable. Guilt? Regret? She couldn’t tell.

"Jules…" His voice was softer now, almost pained.

It took everything in her not to cry.

She swallowed hard. "Just—", her breath hitched, "one last time?"

A pause. And then, slowly, he reached for her.

The kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate—it was slow, almost reverent. Like a memory being written in real time. His lips brushed hers gently, his fingertips ghosting along her jaw as if he wanted to remember the shape of her, the way she felt.

When he pulled away, she felt the loss like a physical thing.

"Goodbye, Jules."



And this time, she had to let him go.

____

Jules’ eyes were engulfed with tears. She could not believe how long it had been without him. Her breath wavered as she made an attempt to pull herself together. After all, she was still in public. She knew that the only way she could get over this, over him, was to come here one last time. To face the memory first hand. Once she leaves from here she has to let it go, let him go. Let the memory fade, instead of it being branded on her mind. 

Jules inhaled shakily, pressing her palms against the worn wood of the bench—their bench. The same spot where he had broken her heart, where he had kissed her goodbye. The imprint of that moment still lingered in the air, thick and suffocating.

She could almost see them, sitting here like they used to. Her, laughing at something stupid he said. Him, looking at her with that quiet, knowing smile. And then, the last time—when he looked at her differently. Distant. Unreachable.

A fresh wave of grief threatened to pull her under, but she clenched her fists. No. She came here for a reason. To end this. To let the past stay where it belonged. She just had to put one foot in front of the other. She has to step back out into the light, even if it blinds her at first. So, with the courage she often lacks, she rises and takes the first heavy step towards healing.Towards her future.

As she stepped forward, leaving the bench—and him—behind, Jules felt the weight of the past loosen its grip, and for the first time, the memory didn’t follow her.