Cold

I felt the blood leave my face, and I know that had anyone seen me at that moment they would have seen the " deer in the headlight" look that came over me. I didn't want to listen anymore. He was oblivious to how this wonderful news had affected me and chattered away, about his new lover.

"...and I wanted to tell you myself." He explained. " I didn't want you to hear it through the rumor mill. " He said. What a darling.

" Thank you. " I said through clenched teeth. " I am happy for you." I think I spit that out, muffled, yet still understandably heartfelt. He was always one who was quick to notice a change in my tone of voice, so he asked the inevitable question.

" Are you okay?"

Why do they ask? Are they really that freaking dense. How the fuck am I okay when you have just told me you are getting married to someone other than me?

" Yes, why? "

And why the fuck, do we say yes? Who are we being strong for when our heart is shattered like glass? Myself? A broken heart isn't going to kill me, but no, I'm not fucking okay!

So, I said I was okay, with clenched fists, and a very human desire to gouge his eyes out.

" You sound different. You sure you're okay?" This is how our conversation continues.

" Yes." I sighed.

" What are you thinking?" Murder, mayhem, knitting. You pick.

" I was thinking how low this makes me feel."

" What? Why?"

" Because you were free to choose, and you chose her over me." Fucker.

" I am sorry."

" Yeah, me too." I muttered. Sorry I wasted time giving a rats ass about you.

" I didn't do it to spite you, you know how I feel about you."

You know, fuck me running. They always say you only hurt the ones you love. I wished he'd hated me. And that's the other thing...If you love me, and I love you...why is there an issue? Why do we take such simple things, and make them into garganteum things, for no reason!

" Yes, I know." I rolled my eyes, and took careful aim at the wall where I was sure the phone would explode upon impact.

" So you're okay?"

Why the fuck, are you so incredibly concerned over how I feel? Had you really been concerned how this news would have affected me...

" Look, " I said, exasperated. " I am fine." I am a very convincing liar when I have to be. " I gotta go, and I guess I'll see you around."

" No, please. Talk to me now, don't leave it like this."

Okay, so what else am I supposed to listen to? How good she is in bed? I'm not fucking her, I don't fucking care! You want to talk about the weather? It's raining in my heart you asshole!

" I really don't have anything else to say to you."

" I am sorry."

" I know."

I clicked off the cordless phone, noticing how my hand shook when I placed it on the charger, and immediatly felt a wave of naseaa come over me. I felt cold, down to my bones, and began shivering uncontrollably. I sat on the edge of my sofa, and held my face in my hands. I rocked back and forth, as visions of evisceration danced through my head.

Eventually, my daydream was over, and I went into my bedroom where I took a good look at myself in the floor length mirror. I was surprised to see that my eyes were hollow. Haunted. I had read about that look in romance novels, and here it was, staring back at me. I recoiled away from the image of that broken woman, and went into the bathroom. I carefully washed my face, and ran a brush through my shoulder lenght, dark brown hair as I mused about putting in highlights, or going goth black. I shoved it into a low ponytail and snapped off the bathroom light.

I changed into my frumpiest outfit, baby blue J. Crew sweatshirt and matching lounge pants, and went into the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee.

I looked out the window, watching clouds that weren't there in the sky before roll in, seeming to gather right at my apartment. Gently at first, raindrops splattered the window. Then, all at once, the sky opened. I grimaced in satisfaction as the sky cried for me. I hoped he would drown out there somewhere.

At that moment, I needed Ella Fitzgerald to sing to me. I had the just-been-dumped-by-a-pig blues.

Instead of the blues, I listened to the Queen of the Damned soundtrack, over and over and over again, which left me feeling damn satisfied. That first week I cursed myself to sleep, and awoke with the first beams of the moon. I wished for retribution, retaliation, and for her hair to fall out. "Her" of course was the other chick. "His" new lover. The sad part is that I knew and liked her. The fucking bitch.

Well, one day the inevitable happened. The weather had turned colder, and there was a smell of snow in the air. I had just walked out of the bank when I saw "Them" pull into the drive-thru. He waved at me, and I instinctively waved back. It wasn't until I noticed the look of disgust on her face that I realized I had waved at them with only one finger. Ah well.

It wasn't six months after that, that he came crawling back. He showed up at my apartment and brought me a rose. A rose. Cheap asshole. It was probably left over from one of "Her" bouquets. I graciously accepted it, and placed it in a crystal bud vase as though it were the most treasured flower in th world. I wondered how much mulch I could get out of it. I had sunflowers that needed feeding.

He sat down on the sofa, and looked at me with those brilliant turquoise eyes that used to keep me spellbound. I tore my eyes away from his, and perched on the ottoman across from him.

I opened up the conversation as a queen addressing her subjects.

" So, what the fuck? What's up?"

" I don't suppose you would give me a chance to love you again?" He said as a conversation starter. I cocked my head to the side, considering.

" No."

To my eternal delight, he was stunned. His mouth opened and closed like my Koi fish. I briefly thought about introducing them.

" Why not? I love you? I never stopped loving you."

Yadda yadda yadda. I'm sorry, was there a whine towards the end of that string of 'please take me backs' ?

" I am sorry." I said I was a convincing liar. " But I'm afraid I no longer feel the same for you."

I lied about the being sorry part. I wasn't sorry about one damn thing, because I no longer gave a fuck. In fact, I despised him. Ah! Liberation! I saw him to the door, and with practiced ease, I tossed him and the garbage out.

I watched as he got in his truck and drove away. As he did, the sun seemed to shine brighter, as though it were shining for me. I hoped it would blind him. I smiled brightly and waved goodbye.