Ripping the Band Aid
Ripping the Band Aid  creative-writing stories
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This morning if you had somehow known of today’s upcoming troubles, you would have done whatever you could to keep them from happening. You would have created an escape plan. Maybe you just wouldn’t have come home last night. You would have done anything to avoid the inevitable.
By faethorne https://faethorne.tumblr....

Ripping the Band Aid

by faethorne

This morning if you had somehow known of today’s upcoming troubles, you would have done whatever you could to keep them from happening. You would have created an escape plan.

Maybe you just wouldn’t have come home last night. You would have done anything to avoid the inevitable.

Instead, here you were standing before your boyfriend, staring at the damage from your train wreck of a relationship.

“Babe, you’re just overreacting.” You winced at how easily the petname passed through his lips. Oh how you despised it.

“How many times do I have to tell you to not call me babe; I hate it.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve never told me that.” Eyebrows knit together, a look of confusion plastered to his face.

“You always tell me how much you love it when I call you babe and shit like that.”

“No, I didn’t.” You sighed, already exhausted by this conversation. “I don’t like it, and I never did. You must have me confused with someone else.”

There was an extended moment of silence. With emerald eyes as wide as saucers, he looked like a kid who had just got caught elbow deep in the cookie jar.

He cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in discomfort. You could almost see the wheels in his mind going into overdrive as he quickly tried to cover his mistake.

Unfortunately for him, the added effort was unsuccessful. “Someone else? Now you’re just being paranoid, babygirl.”

With a clenched jaw, you turned away from him. Every ounce of you wanted to lash out at him. You closed my eyes as you slowly inhaled, hoping the action would calm you, even the slightest bit.

But no amount of breathing exercises could calm the rage burning in your chest.

“This is ridiculous, babe.” He chuckled lightly, trying to mask the nervousness in his voice. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, testing the waters a bit.

“Let’s just call it a truce and go out to get a bite to eat. My treat, alright?”

He wanted to sweep this conversation under a rug, and forget that it ever happened. But you don’t want to forget, you can’t forget.

Everyday there was another piece of evidence being waved in front of your face, letting you know that there was another in his life.

With determination, you whipped back around startling him just a bit. “Stop lying to me,” you snapped. “You always lie, and I’m damn sick of it.”

He stood there in silence blinking rapidly as if he were fighting back tears he didn’t have the right to spill. The sight irritated you further.

For the first time in awhile, you looked at him. You took a moment to study the face of the man you had fallen in love with.

And in that moment, you realized that you didn’t know who this man before you was, not anymore. You were looking at a complete stranger.

“I know.” you whispered. As if saying it quietly made it less true. You took a shaky breath before continuing. “I know you’re seeing someone else. So please, please stop lying to me.”

The walls you had so carefully constructed these last few months were beginning to crumble. You knew he could tell that you were trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.

There was a look of conflict etched into his features. Should he console you? Would you let him? He didn’t, and you were thankful for that.

He opened and closed his mouth a number of times, standing there gaping like a fish. His eyes darted around the room, trying to find anything that wasn’t your pain-filled eyes.

“How…how long have you known?” You scoffed. That’s the first thing he decides to say?

You shrugged. “A few months.”

“I… I’m sorry…” He managed to mumble, still avoiding eye contact.

“No, you’re not,” you argued. “You’re simply sorry that you got caught.”

“How could you say that? Of course I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, astonished by your accusation.

“I find that difficult to believe.”

Once again, an unsettling silence filled the room. He took a small step towards you, extending a hand out in an attempt to grasp yours with his own.

You quickly recoiled, and he looked as if you had slapped him.

“Please,” he whispered. The man before you, once dripping with confidence suddenly seemed so lost and unsure. An act, you figured. “Please don’t do this.”

“I’m just finishing what you started.” you responded coldly. You didn’t know why you hadn’t done this sooner. Like ripping off a band aid, you wanted this over with as soon as possible.

“We’re over.”

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