FFF #23

For more about Flash Fiction Friday, click here.

There was someting a little bit quiet in the way she cried. Even when she was alone, her tears were silent, held back, withdrawn. But on this day in particular, she was more careful than ever to keep her tears in check. The tears were always for the same reason. Her broken heart. And this man who broke it.

He did it in a methodical manner over the course of many years. It was not a calculated endeavor on his part, it was just an extraordinarily high level of apathy. She knew right from the beginning that she could never count on him. He spent as little time with her as possible. He forgot her birthdays. If he did remember them, he often spelled her name wrong on the belated cards. He betrayed her trust, especially when she needed him most. He didn't take care of her when she was sick, even when the doctors thought she needed surgery. He made her feel like an afterthought, an annoyance even. His indifference was a constant source of agony - and it was this indifference that brought on the silent tears more than anything else. Each day he broke her spirit a little bit more. And still, she loved him so.

When she finally stood up to him and told him how she felt, he pushed her away. He did not fight to save the relationship - he did not fight for her. He simply shut down and tossed her aside. He just ...let her go. For a long time they did not speak. And although it was he who eventually reached out to mend the fence, things were never quite the same. It didn't really matter though, because things had never been right in the first place.

Her subsequent relationships have all followed this same pattern - indifferent men who treat her as if she is not worthy of love. She allows this. She has come to realize that this is the way things are for her. She knows she lacks the trust needed to make a relationship work. She knows she will never truly give her heart to anyone. She knows that no man would ever want someone so damaged, so completely fucked up. It would be a killing thing to live day in and day out with that apathy again... to be with someone who won't fight for her love... who never puts her first. Better to be alone...safe from the pain.

And so on this day, she listened to the stories of his life from his many different friends. She learned things about him she had never known, of how so many had loved and counted on him. It broke her heart yet again to know that he had given so much to everyone but her. Even in death, he was able to break her heart.

When it came time for her to speak, she was not sure she would be able to do it. She had to take several deep breaths as she held back the silent tears again. He never saw her cry when he was alive. She was not about to cry in front of him now, in the end. She put her game face on. Nobody wore game face better than she did. Years of practice had made her an expert.

She stood up and went to the podium.

"Before I say anything else, I would like to thank you all so much for coming to the service today and sharing all of these wonderful stories about my father........ "

She didn't cry. Not once.