When Love Dies

I held the piece of cold metal in my hands. Warm tears streamed from my eyes as I rubbed my fingers on the rough, white paint. It was shattered, the rest of it scattered, like the heart that was once firm in my chest. It’s sharp edge poked at my fingertips, but the pain was almost non-existent. Compared to the one pounding inside of me.

The night replayed in my mind, torturing me to no extent. This was supposed to be a happy day, I thought. A joyous occasion. Not this. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Looking at the material in my hands, nobody would be able to tell what it is, what it was. What it was supposed to be.

A unicorn. A tiny statue of a unicorn, smiling in the wind, not a care in the world. Everything it was, everything it meant, was shattered. Shattered in a careless rage.

I carefully laid the pieces on the table, before running out the door, slamming it on my way out. I couldn’t see. The tears welling in my eyes impaired my vision. I didn’t care. I just kept running.

After running for a good six blocks, I sat behind a wall. I wrapped my arms around my trembling frame. All around me I heard the laughs of couples. I saw the pinks and reds and whites of balloons. Everything around me was filled with love, happiness, joy. This day, would no longer be like that for me. Now, everything had changed.

In their laughter, I heard the tears soon to come. I could envision all those balloons, popping rapidly. All that love, happiness, and joy, burning and disintegrating around them before they knew what was happening.

My dad I thought. This is all his fault. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be just like them. I couldn’t completely blame him, though. This wasn’t all his fault. It was mine. If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t have been fighting. If I had been able to keep my grades up, she would still be here. This was my fault.

I was the reason my own mother was dead.

I hadn’t killed her, but I was the source of their fight. My dad may have landed the blow, but it was my carelessness that started it. She didn't deserve it. It should have been me. I knew that I would never be able to live with myself. The guilt would always eat at me, until I was nothing but an empty shell.
Valentine’s day was tainted forever, and my heart would always be dead.