... Le Coeur Brise ...

My mother once told me after a crushing break-up with a boyfriend, that " Sometimes bad things fall apart, so that better things can fall together". I didn't realize at the time that it was a famous saying by the lady of broken hearts Marilyn Monroe.  Liberty Ross, recently said it after her husband publicly admitted to cheating with Kristen Stewart. They were both right. Sometimes things have to fall apart. That's just the way life is. 

Happier times. B in the black jacket

B and I are over. Again. Funny right? Wrong. The first time was hard enough, but I accepted that it was over, and I had begun to move on. Until about a month ago, when I decided to give into my id and follow my heart and not my head, down his deep, dark, twisted rabbit hole life. This time for whatever reason - its harder to accept. Its harder, because not funnily enough, my heart is even more broken. I knew a few weekends after a failed attempt to be in public that he could never be the one for me. I sat there in the background  while I watched him flirt with another person, and everything inside me sank to my toes. There I was. Reduced to my former self. Crying in a corner over someone who couldn't feel the same. So this weekend I decided to end it all. I came to France, to be different. To set myself along a journey where I could be better. Where I could be the me that I had always envisioned for myself. And there I was standing on the edge. Teetering ready to fall back into old ways. I. Could. NOT. 

I walked up to his red door, like I had so many times, but this time it was entirely different. With a purpose I entered, and it was as if we both knew. There was nothing there. Nothing worth fighting for. No one to fight with. The fight within me - for him had gone. I looked at his once handsome to me face, and felt nothing but a twinge of sadness, and the stain of bitterness. I kissed him like I had so many times before, and the sensation that I thought that I could never live with out wasn't there. The rain outside had started to fall, and I had started to cry. That night, while the thunder shouted across the sky, he made love to me like the first time, because we both knew it would be the last. 

In the cold mornings light, I told him. I couldn't or wouldn't play this game with him any longer. He smiled at me and said he knew. He could see in me that he had broken my heart. He could see in me everything that I wanted to say, but didn't have the courage too. Then there was nothing left. I lifted the cigarette out of his long fingers and inhaled. As I exhaled it felt like I was being pulled out of this crushing weight. I put on my shoes, and walked out. Out of his house, and life. Forever.