“The heart was made to be broken.” ― Oscar WildeI remember the first time I had my heart broken. That fucker just smashed into a thousand pieces and stayed that way for a long, long time. Then, I broke someone else’s heart and saw the world from the other side, watching someone crumble and knowing I was doing the right thing. Knowing they would be better without me.
Yesterday was the first time I hurt someone in that way without intending to. I saw it on Natalie’s face as she looked at Ava and I through that window. I tried to go to her, to explain that it meant nothing. A moment of weakness. By the time I made it outside, she was gone.
The rest of the day was a shameful blur. I called Natalie’s cell and her house phone every ten minutes. I left message after message, some making excuses and other simply saying “I’m sorry.”
I never heard from her. Not until this afternoon.