A Scandal of Newtonian Proportions
Lucas, I-I- I can't do this anymore," she sniffed, looking down and letting the tears fall freely.
"What do you mean?" he asked her calmly.
"Why do you always have to be so composed?" she cried, looking up at him. "Don't you ever react? I mean Christ, I'm breaking up with you, and all you can do is lean back indifferently and ask me what I mean?!"
Lucas kept quiet.
"Well here's what I mean," she said contemptuously, letting a sob escape. "I hate you for treating me like I don't exist. I despise you for making me feel insufficient… like I don't measure up to you. I cannot stand that you think you're so much better than me, that you're always a step ahead. Nothing I do pleases you, nothing I do is enough!"
"Michelle, you're overreacting…" he told her seriously, realizing at the last instant that it was probably not the best thing to say. He ducked as a book was thrown at him, missing him by just inches.
He walked over to the sobbing Michelle who now had her head in her hands and was crying softly. "Michelle… give me another chance," he began, wrapping his arms around her tentatively.
"No," she said squirming out of his embrace and turning to face him. "You don't love me Lucas. You don't love me like I love you, and it kills me. This is for the best…"
"I do love you, Michelle," he said quietly.
"Lucas, I can't make it any clearer. We have to break up. This is probably the world's unhealthiest relationship," she said bitterly.
"Well how do I make it healthy?" he asked genuinely hoping to make a difference.
"It's too late for tha,t Lucas. You need to be with someone who doesn't take shit from you, who doesn't feel small around you; in fact, I hope you find someone who makes you feel as worthless as you've made me and I'm sure, countless other women feel. Only then will you get a clue of the anguish I've had to go through. And for your sake, I hope that happens, so you change your ways."
"Is that a curse?"
"I have to go."
With that, Lucas watched helplessly as Michelle threw her clothes into a bag, kissed him lightly on his lips, brushed his dark hair out of his eyes, took one last, lingering look at the beautiful man in front of her, and walked out the door and out of his life.
"Fuck," he thought, picking up the phone. "I hate women. They're all fucking bananas."