Goodbye

"I think we need to break up."

The words are out of your mouth before you can even register what you are saying. You shock even yourself with this proclamation. You've never done anything like this before, especially not with Rae. But this has been on your mind for a while.

The reaction is instantaneous. Rae's lips start to quiver, and her eyes are bright with unshed tears. "Wh-what?" she stammers back to you.

You know her ticks. You have every feature of her face burned in your mind. When her nose twitches, she's annoyed. When her shoulders tense, she's angry. When her fists clench, she's past her boiling point. You imagine almost a cartoon character with a bright red face, squinting eyes and frowning forehead, and steam coming out of their ears. Then all of the sudden, boom! They blow their lid and their head explodes.

Yeah. You know all of her ticks.

You know her tricks too. The seemingly mindless chewing of her lip, the tugging of your hair, the licking of her lips, the soft smile. All are meant to make you forget the fireworks that happened the night before.

But it never works completely.

You begin to comb your fingers through your hair nervously. The bleach dyed ends of your hair feel coarse against your fingers. You look down, trying to avoid eye contact for fear of being sucked back into Rae's world. But Rae has always been like the brightest star in your solar system; impossible to look away from, but always burning you when you do. "We should break up," you say, casting your eyes up to meet hers. They're baby blue, and the first thing you noticed about her when you met. She batted her eyelashes at you from across the room, her baby blues looking docile and sweet But soon, her flirty facade fell and the real Rae was introduced into your life. You would do anything to have the sweet, tentative, and flirtatious Rae you had on your first date.

Anything.

Rae's bottom lip is stuck out, like a pouting child. She hates not getting her way, which is not often. Her allure is almost irresistible to all humans, like a siren calling to a sailor, who despite the warnings just cannot seem to turn away from the sound. "Why?" she just about whines.

Reasons flash through your head quickly and one after the other. Because we fight more than we flirt. Because we cry more than we cuddle. Because we scream more than we sing.

Because, because, because.

"I can't be your girlfriend anymore," you finally decide on. Short and simple. Too many words and you'll start rambling and soon this whole conversation will be over and you'll fall right back into the mess.

"I r-really d-d-don't understand. D-do you h-h-hate me now?" Rae sobs.

You want to say that you could never hate her, but that that is the problem. If you could hate her, you would have left her a long time ago. Rae would be nothing but a memory by now. You still remember the first time you told her that you loved her, early one morning when you thought she was asleep. You leaned over and whispered it in her ear, so quiet it was almost like a hushed prayer. She heard you, and woke up to whisper back; "I love you too".

Now the whispers are no longer. There are only screams.

"I don't hate you. But I can't be in this relationship anymore. It's toxic, Rae."

She looks wounded. Obviously she doesn't think that this is toxic. How can she not see that, any day now, you're both going to blow up in front of your faces and injure everything in sight? But all you say is, "I'm sorry".

Her face crumples. She starts screaming at you, meaningless words that have all been hurled at you before. She throws them in your face, arms flailing and feet stomping, until she gives up and she is left crying breathlessly. You watch her shaking frame go up and down. This would be the point where usually your resolve would crumble like day old cookies. This would be the point where usually you would scoop her up into your arms and murmur apologies. Your hands are shaking, itching to comfort her, but you can't give in or you'll never be free. You walk to your room and start packing up a bag so you can stay in a hotel until you can get all of your things together. You move quickly and quietly, shoving everything you need into your grey Herschel. You stare a little too long at your toothbrushes lined up in a row, and the way that your t-shirts touch each other in your dresser. Your fingers graze over Rae's favorite pajama shirt, an oversized Gryffindor Quidditch shirt that she jokes was from Harry. You sweep a glance at the photo on the bedside, a smiling day at Disney World. Your cheeks are pressed up against Rae's in front of the castle, and you're both grinning so hard it looks like your faces are splitting in half. Teardrops fall down your cheeks, but you brush them away. If Rae sees you crying, it's all over. She'll be able to convince you stay. You would never be able to get away.

Rae is curled up on the couch, weeping quietly when you come back into the living room. You grab your coat and throw it over your shoulders. You sling the Herschel over your shoulder, and grab your keys from the hook that reads "Home Sweet Apartment". You force back a sob at those words. This apartment is no longer your home. But it hasn't been a home for a while. It's just taken you this long to admit it. You look back at Rae. She's staring at you with bloodshot eyes, rimmed red from all of her tears. Her mascara is running all over her face. You look at her beautiful face marred by your relationship, marred by the way you fight and by the way you will still, always, love each other. "Goodbye," you whisper softly.

Then you're gone.