There were too many good memories.
They hurt.
But they were nothing compared to my last. I had no idea what was about to happen when he walked in on the last day of our relationship. He wanted to go to the library for a book that he had been wanting to read, and when he came back, everything seemed to have changed.
Were there warning signs?
Of course. But I chose to think of them as blips within the boundaries of our happiness.
He had become argumentative. He chose to sit by himself under the elm tree in front of our house, when I preferred the backyard. He spoke on his phone and hung up whenever I approached. He looked at me as if I were a stranger at times,even though his kisses were just as sweet. His cock was just as hard as it had always been. I… I chose to believe that it would all be ok. He was dealing with something personal, and soon his thoughts would turn back to me.
It hadn’t been me that he had been thinking about.
It was someone else.
A witch named Willow – can you believe that? She had captured his heart, and his feelings for me had shriveled like a fruit left on the vine in the sun.
He had been honest, in the end, a few hours before walking out the door and leaving the things that meant nothing to him sitting where they were. I came back from a meeting to discover he had packed what he wanted and had already loaded it into his car. The dust rings where his things once sat stood out like a cancer.
He wouldalwayslove me, but he was no longer in lovewithme. Those words hovered in the air around me daily. Three months of hovering and wishing. Three months of feeling lost and abandoned. Three months of my heart being slowly and painfully torn apart, leaving only the wreckage of us in its wake.
“Fucking loser,” Dandelion danced on his branch. He was angry at me. I was too shattered to care.
“Dandelion, please stop. I know… I’m trying.”
“Then try harder. I’m bored,” He cawed loudly.
“If you want to help, then do anything besides what you’re doing,” I pleaded. I was getting exhausted from being ridiculed daily for having feelings.
“Wrong book, asshole,” Dandelion jumped from his branch and opened his wings as he glided over to the large bookcase in my small sanctuary. He pecked at a large red volume on the top shelf. “Try this.”
I walked over and climbed the wooden ladder before pulling it down. Dandelion jumped onto my shoulder and began cleaning himself under his wing.
“Stop that,” I barked without any emotion. All I could muster these days were tears and pity. “Love spells? I don’t think that this is what I want.”
“Fumbling about!” His caw made my ear ring with pain.
“Shush, you.” I took the book and placed it on my stone altar with engraved rosewood edges. I flipped through it. “I really don’t think this is going to help me unless I want to place a spell on Myles. Why would I want someone who no longer wants me? I’d still know the truth.”
“Spells for spells,” Dandelion chirped as he jumped from my shoulder onto the altar. “Myles broke you. Break Myles.”
“You dark portent,” I laughed at him. “You loved him.”
“I belong to you.”
“You belong to no one.”
“I chose you.”
“I chose you, too.”
“I hate sad.”
“I hate sad, too. But to get better, sometimes you have to go through it without aid, Dandelion. I’m trying. Give me time.”
“Humans suck.”
“Yes… I’m afraid we do.” I sighed heavily. Truer words had never been said.
