My face is hot. I feel the cold air hit my cheeks as I walk down Piedmont, rehearsing my speech over and over again until I can’t even remember what I’m trying to do anymore. With each step, my heart beats a little faster than before, and I can feel the beads of sweat fall down the palms of my hands. I rub my hands on my skirt, trying to get rid of the sweat, but they only stay dry for a second. And I try to hold back tears that have been falling for days now, but my eyes start swelling and all I can do is try to hide the overwhelming bursting sensation in my chest from everyone walking beside me. I’m broken. But I am stupid enough to believe that I ever felt whole. Or that I thought he was my other half.
“I love you. I promise I’ll change, I promise. I want to be with you forever, like we’ve talked about. I want to live in that house with you with the dogs and the horses. I want all of it, and I’ll do all of it with you if you give me another chance”. Standing outside of Clark Kerr, I’m repeating myself over and over again in my head, waiting for someone to open the door to the building. At this point, my heart is beating so fast that I feel like he can hear my chest thumps from his room. “Stay strong, everything will be back to normal tomorrow”. And then someone comes up from behind me and opens the door. And I walk through. And all I can think of is turning back. What in the world am I doing here?
Taking a deep breath in front of his door, I knock once. And I hear voices coming from inside of his room, so I know he’s there. He’s probably reading about the Cold War, or laying in bed listening to Johnny Cash, or playing some stupid game on his new PS4… Regardless of what he’s doing, I wonder if he’s feeling the way I do, but I have no way of knowing considering it’s only been three days. Three agonizing days. As my mind moves faster, and as my thoughts become increasingly circular, I knock again. And then again. And then again, the knocking becoming more frantic as the minutes pass by. The voices stop after awhile, and all I can hear is the sobbing coming from my own pathetic self. People come out of their rooms looking for the source of the clearly audible weeping, but then realize it’s me and awkwardly retreat.
The sobbing doesn’t stop, and I haven’t moved from his door for an hour. His roommates text me to let me know that he refuses to open the door despite their pleas. He sits in his room listening to me cry for that entire hour, listening to me profess my love for him, listening to me make an awful fool out of myself. But I’ve lost the only thing that has ever mattered to me, so I figure that there isn’t anything left to lose at this point.
My head starts spinning and as soon as I know it, the two of us are in the study room next door, and my tears have soaked the collar of my shirt, the salt depositing slowly on my neck. Unaffected by my pain, he sits in front of me stoically and logically explains why we don’t make sense together. I look at him desperately, trying to find an ounce of empathy in his body, giving him the benefit of the doubt — after all, he must have a heart.
“Brianna, I am in so much pain right now telling you this, but I just can’t do this anymore. I am going to have to cut you out of my life completely”. His face is calm and collected, and he crosses his arms and sighs as if he had just told his daughter that Santa Claus doesn’t exist. I’ve fallen to my knees, slowly watching the world crumble around me as he walks out the door without remorse, and without saying goodbye.
I’ve offered him my entire heart, life, and being, and none of it could ever suffice for him. I stay in the study room and nothing makes sense to me anymore. All of the memories we shared, the plans we had for the future, and the way we made each other feel — all of it was meaningless, all of it means nothing to him now. But until this moment, I hadn’t realized how much empathy he truly lacked, and how he placed his own self worth above all else. Of course he refused to open the door despite the apparent suffering I was enduring, as it would have been too much for him to handle. And now, still on the floor, my face entirely smeared with mascara and salt, I think back to all of the times where he valued himself more than he valued me. I think back to when I would ask him why he was so against veganism, and how his responses amounted to him just deciding that he just doesn’t care about killing animals. I think back to our political arguments, and how he was so stubbornly conservative. And I would ask him how he could just ignore the problems of so many good people, and to that he responded similarly. He just doesn’t care, as it doesn’t affect him.
Filtering out the beautiful memories, I realize quickly that the man I’ve fallen in love with is in fact a dark reproduction of everything I absolutely despise. But of course, I can’t live without him, because even though our views on nearly every single topic are polar opposites, this man has captured my heart unlike anyone else. His clearly narcissistic characteristics only truly shine through after realizing how disillusioned I’ve been throughout the entire relationship. And as I sit here thinking about my future, I start eliminating any possibility of a future with him, and the tears come flooding down my face again.
Even though I am capable of rationalizing the situation, I physically feel my heart splitting in two as I remember what we always used to say to each other.
“You’ve got me, and I’ve got you”, and these words stick to my heart like glue.