How You Know You Are Over Him

There’s a void in your life that can no longer be filled by the love you once had. You open the doors, see him waiting for you on the sofa, and you feel nothing. You no longer ache for his affection. You feel indifferent to his presence.

When you look at him in the eyes, you give him a slightly crooked smile, and not the charming kind. It’s forced, but you try to acknowledge his presence the best way you can. At this point, you don’t want to admit you’re getting over him and find every excuse to believe that it’s just a phase. You’ve invested so much time with him, you don’t want to believe that it’s ending. So you suppress the feelings deeper and continue to fight against the inevitable.

Dinner is made, and he leans in for a kiss. He thanks you for the meal, and asks how your day is. You say, “It was okay. Just a typical Tuesday.” And then silence. You hear nothing but the reverberating sounds of the fluorescent lights in the room and the clanking of the forks dabbing into the chicken you’re all too familiar with baking for him. You ask him nothing back because you no longer want to expend the little energy it takes to mutter, “How about your day?” So you continue to eat without looking at him. Neither does he.

Dinner is over, and the dishes are put away, and you both sit on the sofa with laptops unfolded. In an effort to show some affection, you set your laptop aside and lean on his shoulder, watching him endlessly scroll. He doesn’t acknowledge this.

You wish that your breathing would sync with his, but it doesn’t. You listen for his heartbeat after getting comfortable under his arm, but it no longer relaxes you. The beats of his heart turn into beats of a timpani. You breathe lightly as to not attract too much attention, lift your head, and get up.

“Is everything okay?” he asks. You think to yourself no as you get off the sofa. You get defensive and feel that with him, everything he says is too late. “Yeah, just a long day.” You try so hard not to sound irritated, but you do, and he notices, or at least you hope he does.

Checking your phone, you look for an excuse to leave. You smile and realize that the guy who’s texting you is doing a better job filling the void that the person you once loved and trusted can no longer do. You feel guilty, but guilt has become your only source of consolation. You look back at him on the couch, just missing his glance by a few seconds, and he missing yours.

You grab your things and head for the door. He asks where you’re headed off to. You respond, “Just need to take a walk. Be back in a few.”

“I love you,” he says.

Conflicted, you shut the door behind you.