A/N: My boyfriend left me three days ago. here is a short one shot from the experience i had...

Made of Glass

The sunlight beat upon my tears. Those warm rays shown upon your cold, hardened face…

I couldn’t stare into those deep chocolate eyes I always fell into, sinking further and further into the murky waters of those beautiful pools.

I hid amongst the darkening shadows of my car; the cool air conditioning circulating through your hair. I would steal unrecognizable glances at your well-crafted face, only to look away in undeniable confusion.

I knew what was going to come.

I knew what fate lay before us.

“Where do I go from here Patrick, what do I say to you?” I pleaded, clawing at my crimson face, trying and hoping to rid my aching heart of the knowledge of hot tears plastering my eyes.

I was vulnerable; I was weak in his eyes, I was crying. His hardened icy gaze intently bored into me.

No matter how deep I burrowed myself into my hands, shying away from the words that had yet to come from his thin, pink lips, I always felt the tugging at my heart to leap in unrequited love back into his long, pale, soft arms, feeling the pulse under his skin, feeling the radiated warmth wrap me in the only feeling I could understand.

“I…I don’t know what to say to you. I just…I just…,” I looked up, ashamed still but wanting to look at you in a swift glance of passion.

Your eyes were red; your long, deep black hair dripping with salty tears; your face deep pink and blotched with repercussions of your emotions. I wanted so damn bad to wipe those painful tears away, to tell you it will all be okay, that everything that we were experiencing would pass in a minute.

I only sat quiet, tears streaming, heart tearing.

“I don’t love you,” He whispered.

I could feel the weight of my collapsing heart fall straight down into my knotted stomach. The tears, hot and wet, fell continuously. Searing darts came at my chest; my breathing became raspy and cluttered. I grasped at my feelings, at your words, but denial, unadulterated denial, would come over me.

“When you admitted your love to me, I saw that I couldn’t love you back. I cannot feel anything but happiness and sadness. I cannot feel the love you want me to feel,” You admitted, tugging at your hair, obviously in pain from the open confession.

The pain you felt was nothing to what I felt.

I tried to speak. I opened my dried mouth, feeling my cracked lips burn. I tasted the falling tears, their saltiness caking my tongue. I shot a look into my mirror.

I was utterly and admittedly pathetic.

“What…what…what the hell are you trying to say, Patrick? Just say it, damnit, say it!” I screamed, curling into a tight ball in the driver’s seat, clutching at my shirt collar, pouring all my emotions, all of my heart’s pieces out into tears and shouts and shame and tears.

“I can’t be with you anymore,” You muttered, pining for the door handle.

“Go…go…just GO!” I screamed, swiping my keys from my pocket, not caring in any sense that I was hysterical. I could no longer feel my heart beat. I could’ve sworn it was battered and bruised and it had collapsed within me.

You walked away from my car that Friday in a stumbling slouch. I watched you as you fell inside your house, obviously hurt and pained from the words you spoke to me.

But as I drove away, watching before my eyes, watery and burning, the memories we had, the nights of warmth, the beautiful, tender kisses, the soft whispered words of love, the knowing, the reassurance of the care we had, break asunder. I felt the wind rush through the cracked windows, brushing my tears and scattering them among the atmosphere around my car.

I screamed, beat the dashboard in pain, heaved and sighed and released every emotion, every shred of true hurt that had come from you, and I fell silent.

I remembered something you had said when we first met, your tall, slender figure wrapped in my arms.

“Hearts are made of glass; they are bound to break.”