Broken

A week before I left New Orleans, the day before my last at work, I called you at home with something exciting to tell you.

I had gotten tickets to an exciting event I told you.

When, you asked.

Tonight.

I can’t. I already have plans.

What kind of plans?

Dinner?

With who?

Someone.

Like a date?

Yeah.

And then my heart fell out. I don’t know where it went, but I hope I find it again.

This whole thing was very strange. We lived together, shared a bed. You kissed me goodbye before I left for work that morning.

Of course I had to come home immediately. I didn’t know what else to do. My ears were ringing, my face bright red. I had to leave to keep the tears from exploding out of me at work; certainly not the way I wanted them to remember me.

When I got home, I was very upset, but it took awhile for the tears to come. The entire time you maintained that you hadn’t done anything wrong. That in fact, you had been out of our relationship for over a month now. This was news to me. I knew I was moving away, but for you to start seeing a girl (the one who had been sending you messages at all hours of the day and night) while my side of the bed hadn’t yet cooled? This wasn't us. This wasn’t you. What was going on with you?

I cried, and cried. You were sorry that your actions had hurt me, but assured me that you had done nothing wrong. You weren’t planning on seeing her for long, she was just someone different that you wanted to hang out with, someone who was not me.

You made me take a nap with you, telling me I would feel better with rest. I would calm down. I couldn’t sleep, but you did. I washed my face and went back to work, sickened.

I went back to work, and told a few people what had happened. I explained what you had done, and no one could believe it. They all thought that you loved me very much; I had too.

You called me several times. I didn’t answer. You sent me a message telling me that you wanted to make plans with me.

I got home and didn’t know what to do. You weren’t there. When you walked in the door you asked if I had gotten the messages. Yes I said. You said that you wanted to make plans with me so that I could see that she meant noting, that I mattered more than her.

So we went to dinner. What else could I do? I loved you. I wanted this all to be some horrible mistake. Dinner was strained. You were somewhere else, thinking about her I imagine. You tried to explain her to me; I didn’t want to hear it. When you told me her name, you instantly ruined that name for me forever. Too bad that the food was some of the best I had had in New Orleans; it was tainted.

You eventually told me that you weren’t going to see her, and you weren’t planning on seeing her. I don’t know if I believe you. I don’t know if I ever can.

After I returned to Idaho, I wrote you a hasty message about being on a date with someone else when I didn’t hear back from you right away. You told me you were asleep. You said that if I didn’t trust your intentions with me that I was more than welcome to have my friends spy on you. I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this.

How could you have done this? How could you make my heart disappear?

I am so excited when I talk to you now, but it isn’t the same. It is guarded, safe, I am not giving you everything. Always in the back of my head is the way I felt on that Thursday; betrayed, beyond hurt, I don’t even know how to describe it except, that my heart died.

How do I bring it back to life again? I want to love you the way that I once did; freely, not afraid. I don’t know how to fix it. You call me every night before you go to sleep. You send me emails and messages almost everyday. You love me. You miss me. But you broke me. I don’t know how to fix it.

I need to. I can’t fully enjoy your love again until I do. And more importantly, I can't really love without it.