"We end today, don't we?" was the last thing I said to her. It was a question that wasn't really a question. Until she answers it while she climbs in her car, "I don't want to. I really don't want to. But yes, naughty American boy, we end today. I don't want to be your burden," with tears streaming down her cheeks and drives away. And suddenly I'm not numb any longer. But I wish I was. Because everything hurts like hell. I'm screaming, "You're not!" but her car has already pulled out of the lot.
