The Death of a Perfectly Good Gentleman

"I love you, please love me, too," his eyes said. He had burst into tears when I uttered the words, "break" and "up." Now, his eyes were like upside-down smiles making three frowns on his face. We've only dated for a shy two months.

He looked up at me, his bottom lip down to his knees, his eyes with a glint in their shine, the quiver in his voice when he said, "But, my life is so mundane without you."

He always had a way with words. It was how he caught me.

"Because, I didn't want you to slip away."

I shouldn't have taken the hook.

"If a couple can stay together when one's in Iraq, I'm sure we can stay together when one's in college."

I should have gone with my gut.

"I'll make the money while you do your art, babe."

I should have declined.

If only I had met him earlier. If only he was my first. If only things were different, I would have taken his statement as a valid reason to stay. But, "What does that even mean?" I thought, "My life is so mundane without you?" Such a big red herring, the most logical thing for me to say was, "Maybe you should work on your life a little bit." I braced myself before I even finished the sentence. He was so shocked; he stopped crying for a second. He was smart. It was too bad that none of his words mattered. I couldn't love him back.

He finally wiped his eyes and I wiped mine. He tried to lighten the mood by saying, "How did we ended up both crying?"

I said the first thing that came to my head, "Because we're both girls?"

He laughed out loud.