He pushed a vase off the counter at 3am while I was fooling around my parent’s living room. The $10 roses spread out on the floor. As did my date. An anemic Colombian with a similar cat-like disdain for rules was no longer lying beside me. She was fetching her clothes in the dark. While I was cutting myself on the broken glass.
It brought me back to the day we met. We were comfortably uncomfortable in the backseat of my first car. My glasses couldn’t handle the supernatural passion of our after school hugs. They were torn in two. I never did see how bad she was for me. Though she never broke my heart. She broke a bunch of my shit. And my cat was smarter than me to see.
The lights flickered on in every room. I hurried her to my car and kissed her before slamming the door on her ass. She didn’t fight me, for once. That’s how I knew it was over. She didn’t break the silence. I promised myself that the next time I’d see her, it would be in the daylight. That day never came. Neither did I.
