The Voice That Kills Love

My heart stopped. My mouth turned drier than the pavement on the day of a heatwave.

“You- what?”

His eyes bore into mine with unwavering intensity, but he doesn't speak. The distant sound of people taking cover from the blazing sun was the only thing I could hear.

“Well?”

“Our relationship meant a lot to me.” He winced, whether due to Mother Nature’s blinding rays of light, or as a ploy to find time to articulate what he would say next- I didn’t know.

“When it ended between us, I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed; I really saw a future with you.”

I shifted my weight onto my right foot as I stood speechless, taking every word he said in. Twisting it around my tongue as if I were saying the same thing.

Only self-aware enough to know I probably looked strange poking my tongue around my mouth, I sucked in my lips and caught pink flesh between my teeth.

“But I’ve got to say- you’re not the easiest woman to deal with.”

Sensation sparked deep within me as I screwed up my fists as I folded my arms like a bratty child.

“You can be-”.

“What?” The words flew out and once I started, it was too late. “Difficult, stubborn- not pretty enough? Is that it? Because if that’s what you were going to say you’re no different to the other guys I’ve dated.”

He turned stiff. I’ve pissed him off. Great.

“The first two definitely do apply to you- but not the last one. You’re not pretty-”

My mouth opened to spit a rebuttal.

“-you’re beautiful. I just wished you would allow yourself to be even more so.” A short-lived tingle ran up my spine as he peered at my face for a moment before looking down, almost shy yet… disappointed? Heat raised in my cheeks and I wished he would be able to see, but caramel kissed skin will do that to me.

But I still found a problem.

“Are you just complimenting my looks?”

He sighed. “No. No I’m not. You know I’m not.”

D*mn him. F*ck him. He was, at least, that’s what I wanted to believe. It’s what that stupid, scared and undeniably guilty voice in my head told me. Sore knots started to form in my throat as the sun fried my brain, and I almost struggled to get the words out, but I did:

“Stay away from me. I don’t want to see you again.”

Breeze that failed to cool me down from my childish musings rang through my extensions before I turned on my fraying sandals and hastened in the opposite direction. With each step I cursed myself in my head. Why did I say that? Do I really mean that? If I did I wouldn’t be thinking about it right now.

I had an idea to see him again. Right then. I’d turn my head to see if he was watching me. See if he cared.

If he really cared he would’ve called out to you.

The voice persuaded me yet again. So I kept scuttling along to the crowd. Salt water spilled in tiny streams I tried to stop, but it was pointless- I was crying. Crying because I knew. Crying because he knew.

This is why he left me to begin with.