It was around four in the afternoon when I finally decided to do it. I was with her and some other friends just chatting in the library, like the noisy teenagers we were. I excused myself and took her to a room nearby. Just the two of us, ready to do what had to be done: bring our relationship to its unavoidable end.
We had been together for a while now. She had once been a great source of pleasure in my life, but the relationship between us had become unhealthy with time. I still remember the beauty of our first kiss, that indescribable flavor that enveloped my tongue, remained in my lips for hours and made me wish for more. I loved it. Having her around was good for me back then; her sheer presence made me feel like I had butterflies inside my stomach. At first her company made me feel revitalized and full of energy, but this phase didn’t last long. She would begin complaining if I wanted to play some ball with my friends, she would start grunting if I showed the desire to dance. The butterflies had gotten heavier and noisier, as if they had dropped the acidic butter inside me and were now just annoying flies. I tried relaxing and ignoring her whenever she made me feel annoyed, but if anything, the nagging feeling was growing stronger. This relationship had deteriorated to a point where I simply couldn’t stand it anymore. This had to stop.
