I wish at this moment I could be an omniscient figure. Where could I begin? Maybe at his eyes or maybe at her utter disbelief. Maybe I could attempt to describe both of their worlds. His continues to rotate with gravity intact while hers is thrown completely off its axis. She bites her fingernails and tastes the salt from her skin mix with the salt from her tears. He doesn't look at her. He avoids any feelings of guilt. He keeps talking. Words are spilling onto the floor between them. She doesn't know how to pick them up. She wants him to hold her hand, kiss her forehead, she wants him to love her again. It won't happen. They both know it. He offers an apology but his sincerity breaks her heart even more. He tells her he doesn't like to see her cry, that he feels like a jerk for causing her pain. She takes a deep breath and whispers that all she did was give him herself. All she did was hand her heart over to him with his promise to watch over it. He wants to give her heart back to her, but there is so much pain inside her body that it doesn't fit anymore. There isn't anywhere for it to go. She knows that if she gets up from that chair, walks across the grass, steps away from the curb, she knows she'll never see him again. How could that be possible? This is what she asks herself. He doesn't know what else to say. Nothing can fix her. She just has to exist for a while.