“I don’t really know how to begin,” Rachelle Harlow murmured while trying to find a way to break things up with her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. Damn. Whoever said a breakup is easy for a playgirl like me? she thought. Contrary to popular belief, one can’t get used to things like this. I may be a playgirl but I’m NOT a bad person. I didn’t intend to hurt all of my eight ex-boyfriends. Not really.
She took another sip of her iced tea. Or what was once her iced tea but is now melted ice.
She and her boyfriend were dining together in her kitchen with food she prepared herself. She had the house to herself for the weekend but instead of making out with her boyfriend without worrying about her brother or her parents, she’s out trying to end her relationship with the guy who she once thought she’d give up her virginity for.
In truth, the meal was the least she could do.
“J-Jake,” she whispered. “The past six weeks have been really fun and exciting for me. I mean, everything had been so cool and stuff had been really enjoyable and I swear I had been happy.” Did she use too much synonyms? Judging by the odd look at her boyfriend’s face, her statement was definitely incomprehensible.
“I guess we really had a great time, right?” Jake laughed as if he hadn’t sensed anything wrong with her. He suddenly sobered. “What is it you really wanted to tell me, Rach?”
“Huh? Uhm, well. It’s just that I really want to tell you how much I enjoyed being your girlfriend and that, well, I—“
“You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?”
She changed her mind. “What?! No! It’s just that—“
“Cut it out, Rach. Before I even thought of asking you out for a date, I’ve heard all about the way you are when it comes to relationships. AND breaking up. I thought I’d last longer than your dozen ex-boyfriends did but I guess I’m not good enough, aren’t I?” Jake said with what sounded like a lot of self-pity.
“No, Jake. You’re great. Hell, you’re definitely a lot better than that ass who calls himself Gary. And that’s saying something. You are a great boyfriend,” Rachelle finished miserably.
“And inviting me here—in your house, with home-cooked dinner— is your way of trying to make the break up easier for both of us. For you, mostly,” he continued as if she never spoke. “No worries. I guess I’ve already accepted long ago that you would never really stick to one guy for longer than a few months.”
He smiled that smile that tells her he knows they’re over. Right now, she can no longer identify who broke up with whom. But then again, that might be for the best.
“Can you at least tell me why you’ve finally decided to end things?” He said after a few seconds.
“I mean it when I said that you are a great boyfriend,” she began what is apparently a long speech. “We have fun, we like a lot of similar things and you definitely taught me how to enjoy reading books on philosophy. And I can only be thankful for all of that.
“It’s just that I figured we’re better off as friends. I like kissing you though. But there wasn’t a spark. At least not for me.” She laughed a little. “I thought that maybe since I like the way you kiss me, it means we have something more than I ever had with all those other guys before.”
“But all of us are the same, right? We all don’t seem to understand you a lot,” Jake said.
She smiled. “I don’t know. I can’t seem to understand myself completely either. Sometimes, I thought I’ve fallen hopelessly in love and then suddenly, I’d start to doubt my feelings until all I can feel is nothing but friendship. And believe me, I do want us to remain friends. If that is still possible,” she finished.
“I would like that too,” one corner of his mouth curled up as if he’s trying to smile.
“But I don’t think I can look at you as a friend anytime soon. You’re breaking my heart after all. I need time to accept the fact that I am not the kind of guy who can ever keep you feeling in love. I wish you the best though. You’re a very special girl and you deserve to find the right guy.” He stood up.
“Thank you,” she said, standing up as well.
Rachelle started to walk Jake to the door. Once he’s outside, she kissed him on the lips one last time.
“Thank you for making me fall in love at least for some time. And thank you for not making this any harder than i-it already is,” her voice broke.
She was already crying. This breakup is worse than what she was used to. Jake Clifford, after all, was this very sensitive guy who showed her just how fun a simple activity such as star-gazing is.
Turning his back, he walked away from her. Her ninth ex-boyfriend.
Okay. So there’s my first attempt to write something that closely resembles fiction. Please tell me what you think. Anything. Before I dig myself deeper into this hole I call “writing a novel”.
I haven’t taken any formal creative writing classes and the only way I can improve is to have people who would tell me what I need to do. Thanks so much for taking the time to read. Hope you somehow liked it! 😀