Burning Bridges

“Why are you still talking to me?”

“Huh?”

“We broke up, Charlie. Why the fuck are you still sending me shit?

He paused. “Well, well. I see you’re finally responding to me.”

“You know what? Forget it. Just stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Just stop it. You had your chance and you blew it. Just stop.”

He sputtered, speechless. He himself didn’t really understand his motives. Maybe he kept trying to talk to her out of habit. Maybe parts of him deep down inside still wanted her. He pushed that thought aside. There was no way that was the case. Then why was he doing it? What compelled him to talk to her still? Was it some sort of vindication? Was it jealousy?

Pride, he thought, that must be it.

She stormed away. Fists clenched and teeth gritted, she was different than before. Meaner? No, maybe a little rougher around the edges. There was something in that feeling that Charlie found starkly beautiful. He forced those thoughts away. Enough. It’s done. Give it up.

“Hey,” he called after her. “Fuck you, you bitch!”

He suddenly felt as if he could jump and touch the sky. He smiled and walked away.