We sit down to a meal. I look lovingly into her eyes as she stares blankly at her meal.
I hold her hand, connecting through touch, and she loosely drops my hand to check her purse only to slip her hand back to her side again.
She clearly doesn’t want me anymore. I see her anguish. Her want to end things without hurting my feelings, without causing pain. Wishing for an easy way to end it.
The endless empty looks, being late, excuses to avoid meeting up.
She is hurting.
I should tell her I don’t want her anymore too.
Written by Rodney Goodall