Responsibility

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He came to me that night. He just stood there for hours, looking at me. It was so quiet. And I was so tired. I just wanted everything to be over. I wanted whatever there was between us to be over. Until he broke the silence.

 – Hey. I need to talk to you.

I could barely put myself together.

– About what?

– About us. Please.

Us. Us. US?! Why is he doing this? Why now?

– Oh, so now you want to talk? Okay, lets talk.  There’s no us. There’s never been us.

– Please, you have to hear me out. I need you. I.. I love you.

I heard the pain in his voice. I saw it written all over his face. He wore the same expression I used to see every time I looked in the mirror. But it wasn’t enough. 

–  No. I don’t have to do anything. You aren’t my responsibility anymore. If I come to think about it, you never were. I’ve done everything for you, I gave you everything so you could be happy. But it wasn’t my job to do so. It was her. It always was. The responsibility was never mine. You were never mine. So don’t talk to me about love. I don’t wanna hear it. Go talk to her. She’s your girl. I’m her shadow. 

Then he kissed me. He kissed me with passion I’ve never experienced before. My anger and his regret collided. But the pain couldn’t be erased. He tasted like summer rain, but winter was coming. I knew I could have his body right there, at that exact moment. But I wanted his soul, his mind, and they could never be mine. His heart could never be mine. So I set him free. And this broke what was left of my heart.

I never saw him again. And I know I never will. I have no idea where he is and what he’s doing, whether he is okay. But I don’t feel guilty.
After all, he was never my responsibility.

M. Stefanova, 9 December 2012

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