“Maybe it’s a good idea we no longer communicate.”

…“Maybe it’s a good idea we no longer communicate.”
These were the last words he had ever received from her. As he read it, he felt as though his chest had imploded, he could actually feel his insides fall into despair. Could she really mean this? Was this some sort of practical joke? But he knew her all too well, this was no joke. What grievous error had he committed? Had he shared too much with her? Not enough? Many thoughts began to swirl around his head. There were far too many for him to focus on any particular one. He poured another drink; the alcohol gave him the calm reserve to deal with the flood of emotions he was experiencing. Had he come on too strong? He did, after all, send her a very heartfelt letter in which he had bared his soul. He had admitted to things that most men would not dare share with anyone else. He had shared with her all of his feelings of loneliness, fear, sadness the tears he had cried. Things he could scarcely admit to himself, let alone another human being.
Nonetheless, he wrote it all down, just for her.
But, it did not matter; it had meant nothing to her.
She recognized the letter as a sign of weakness. Who was this frightened little man who would waste his time chasing her, a woman well beyond his reach? Had he no shame? Had he no dignity? She could not be concerned with anyone’s emotions but her own, let alone a man with whom she had had a brief affair with so long ago. How pathetic that anyone would carry a torch for so long over something that meant so little. The feeling of disgust made her sick to her stomach. She could not even find pity for this creature, only contempt. She knew immediately that she would have to cut this malignant wound out of her life forever. It was then that she sent a text that would put an end to this once and for all.
…“Maybe it’s a good idea we no longer communicate.”
With the slightest smile on her face, she hit send. She was giddy with anticipation as to the devastation she was about to induce upon his weak soul.
…“Maybe it’s a good idea we no longer communicate.”
The only response he could come up with was
As you wish.

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About Robert Elbertson

Welcome to my page. I'm a middle aged man, who smokes too much and drinks too much. I like to pretend that I'm a writer. I'm certain, that as you read my posts, that you will find that I am not. No matter. Feel free to read, comment, give feedback, good or bad, serious critiquing will be appreciated. The only way I can get better, is to receive feedback on what I write. I really don't care if you feel the need to be harsh. I deal with assholes on a daily basis. But, if the criticism is intended to help me get better, then I am all for it. I am looking forward to this new venture. Thank you for your time. View all posts by Robert Elbertson

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