Sharper than shards

They are screaming at each other. Again.

She doesn't even know how it started this time. But it didn't matter anyway. They could talk about something as trivial as the weather and it would probably start a fight. Actually, when she thought about it, it had. Two days ago. It had been bad. A vase had been thrown.

But the words were worse. Sharper than shards. Projectiles meant to inflict as much pain as possible. And every single one hit its target.

Afterwards they would apologize. Would try to take away some of the pain. They tried to make it good again. But even though wounds may heal, scars stay forever.

They couldn't pretend anymore.

She realized that he was staring at her. She had been quiet for too long, not reacting to his rage. But there were no more words in her. No more strength.

"It's never gonna stop, is it?" she asked quietly, eyes cast down. "We are just going to fight again and again. Bringing up every single mistake of the past. Are we.... over?"

Her voice cracked as she looked into his eyes. He never answered but he didn't need to. She could see the answer in his eyes.

With a nod she turned around already thinking about the important things she had to pack. She could come back later for the rest of her stuff. As she threw shirts and underwear into her bag she felt nothing. Maybe he should be trying to hold her back right now, she thought. But she knew it was for the best that he wasn't. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

When she left the flat the reality of the situation dawned on her for the first time. It was over. Four years of relationship. Over. Just like that. She knew it was the right decision. Still. Suddenly the sadness choked her. It was like a tight knot forming in her belly. A desperate sob escaped her lips as she went to her knees. Tears started to fall for earnest now. Rocking back and forth on her heels she gripped herself tightly, digging her hands into her sides. Why did this hurt so much when she knew it was right? Did she really have to do it? She could just go back in, apologize. Be happy again.

But then she remembered. The look in his eyes. Sad, defeated. She had seen the truth in them. He didn't love her anymore and she couldn't go back to the fighting and hurting and making up and doing it all over again.

No. This was it. She picked herself up, steadied her breath, wiped away the tears. Then she left.